THE   CALIFORNIANS 


By  the  Same  Author 

THE  CONQUEROR. 

A  FEW  OF  HAMILTON'S  LETTERS. 

THE  ARISTOCRATS. 

SENATOR   NORTH. 

His  FORTUNATE  GRACE. 

PATIENCE   SPARHAWK  AND  HER  TIMES. 

RULERS  OF  KINGS. 

THE  TRAVELLING  THIRDS. 

THE   BELL  IN  THE  FOG. 

CALIFORNIA  SERIES 
(Chronological  Order) 

REZANOV. 

THE  DOOMSWOMAN. 

THE  SPLENDID  IDLE   FORTIES. 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  VINE. 

THE   CALIFORNIANS. 

AMERICAN  WIVES  AND  ENGLISH   HUSBANDS. 

A  WHIRL  ASUNDER. 

ANCESTORS. 


THE    CALIFORNIANS 


BY 

GERTRUDE   ATHERTON 


gorfe 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1908 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 
BY  JOHN  LANE. 

COPYRIGHT,  1908, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


First  published  elsewhere.    New  edition,  February,  1908. 


TJortoooti 
Berwick  &  Smith  Co.,  Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


Stack 
Annex 

fS 


C/i 

i 


BOOK    I 


The  Californians 


BOO  K    I 


i 


"  I  WON'T  study  another  word  to-day ! "  Helena 
tipped  the  table,  spilling  the  books  to  the  floor.  "  I 
want  to  go  out  in  the  sun.  Go  home,  Miss  Phelps, 
that 's  a  dear.  Anyhow,  it  won't  do  you  a  bit  of  good 
to  stay." 

Miss  Phelps,  young  herself,  glanced  angrily  at  her 
briery  charge,  longingly  at  the  brilliant  blue  of  sky  and 
bay  beyond  the  long  window. 

"  I  leave  it  to  Miss  Yorba."  Her  voice,  fashioned 
to  cut,  vibrated  a  little  with  the  vigour  of  its  roots. 
"You  seem  to  forget,  Miss  Belmont,  that  this  is  not 
your  house." 

"But  you  are  just  as  much  my  teacher  as  hers. 
Besides,  I  always  know  what  Magdale"na  wants,  and  I 
know  that  she  has  had  enough  United  States  history 
for  one  afternoon.  When  I  go  to  England  I  '11  get 
their  version  of  it.  We  "re  brought  up  to  love  their 
literature  and  hate  them  !  Such  nonsense  —  " 


4.  The  Californians 

"  My  dear  Miss  Belmont,  I  beg  you  to  remember 
that  you  have  but  recently  passed  your  sixteenth 
birthday  —  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  If  I  'd  been  brought  up  in  Boston, 
I  'd  be  giving  points  to  Socrates  and  wondering  why 
there  were  so  many  old  maids  in  the  world.  However, 
that 's  not  the  question  at  present.  '  L£na,  do  tell  dear 
Miss  Phelps  that  she  needs  an  afternoon  off,  and  that  if 
she  does  n't  take  it  —  I  '11  walk  downstairs  on  my  head." 

Helena,  even  at  indeterminate  sixteen,  showed 
promise  of  great  beauty,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  with 
the  insolence  of  the  spoiled  child  who  already  knew 
the  power  of  wealth.  The  girl  she  addressed  had  only 
a  pair  of  dark  intelligent  eyes  to  reclaim  an  uncomely 
face.  Her  skin  was  swarthy,  her  nose  crude,  her 
mouth  wide.  The  outline  of  her  head  was  fine,  and 
she  wore  her  black  hair  parted  and  banded  closely 
below  her  ears.  Her  forehead  was  large,  her  expres 
sion  sad  and  thoughtful.  Don  Roberto  Yorba  was 
many  times  more  a  millionaire  than  "Jack"  Belmont, 
but  Magdalena  was  not  a  spoiled  child. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  with  a  marked  hesitation 
of  speech ;  "  I  'd  like  to  go  out,  but  it  does  n't  seem 
right  to  take  advantage  of  the  fact  that  papa  and 
mamma  are  away — " 

"What  they  don't  know  won't  hurt  them.  I  'd  like 
to  have  Don  Roberto  under  my  thumb  for  just  one 
week.  He  'd  get  some  of  the  tyranny  knocked  out  of 
him.  Jack  is  a  model  parent  — " 

Magdalena  flushed  a  dark  ugly  red.     "I  wish  you 


The  Californians  5 

would  not  speak  in  that  way  of  papa,"  she  said.  "  I  — 
I  —  well  —  I'm  afraid  he  would  n't  let  you  come  here 
to  study  with  me  if  he  knew  it." 

"  Well,  I  won't."  Helena  flung  her  arms  round  her 
friend  and  kissed  her  warmly.  "  I  would  n't  hurt  his 
Spanish  dignity  for  the  world ;  only  I  do  wish  you  hap 
pened  to  be  my  real  own  cousin,  or  —  that  would  be 
much  nicer  —  my  sister." 

Magdalena's  troubled  inner  self  echoed  the  wish; 
but  few  wishes,  few  words,  indeed,  passed  her  lips. 

"Well?"  demanded  Miss  Phelps,  coldly.  "What 
is  it  to  be?  Do  you  girls  intend  to  study  any  more 
to-day,  or  not?  Because  —  " 

"  We  don't,"  said  Helena,  emphatically.  And 
Magdale'na,  who  invariably  gave  way  to  her  friend's 
imperious  will,  nodded  deprecatingly.  Miss  Phelps 
immediately  left  the  room. 

"  She  's  glad  to  get  out,"  said  Helena,  wisely.  "She 
hates  me,  and  I  know  she 's  got  a  beau.  Come  ! 
Come  !  "  She  pulled  Magdale'na  from  her  chair,  and 
the  two  girls  ran  to  the  balcony  beyond  the  windows 
and  leaned  over  the  railing. 

"  There 's  nothing  in  all  the  world,"  announced 
Helena,  "  so  beautiful  as  California  —  San  Francisco 
included  —  in  spite  of  whirlwinds  of  dust,  and  wooden 
houses,  and  cobblestone  streets,  and  wooden  sidewalks. 
One  can  always  live  on  a  hill,  and  then  you  don't  see 
the  ugly  things  below.  For  instance,  from  here  you 
see  nothing  but  that  dark  blue  bay  with  the  dark  blue 
sky  above  it,  and  opposite  the  pink  mountains  with  the 


6  The  Californians 

patches  of  light  blue,  and  on  that  side  the  hills  of 
Sausalito  covered  with  willows,  and  the  breakers  down 
below.  And  the  ferry-boats  are  like  great  white  swans, 
with  long  soft  throats  bending  backwards.  I  don't  ex 
press  myself  very  well;  but  I  shall  some  day.  Just  you 
wait ;  I  'm  going  to  be  a  scholar  and  a  lot  of  other  things 
too." 

"What,  Helena?"  Magdatena  drew  closer.  She 
thought  Helena  already  the  most  eloquent  person 
alive,  and  she  envied  her  deeply,  although  without 
bitterness,  loving  her  devotedly.  The  great  gifts  of 
expression  and  of  personal  magnetism  had  been  denied 
her.  She  had  no  hope,  and  at  that  time  little  wish, 
that  the  last  paucity  could  ever  be  made  good  by  the 
power  of  will ;  but  that  articulate  inner  self  had  regis 
tered  a  vow  that  hard  study  and  close  attention  to  the 
methods  of  Helena  and  others  as  —  or  nearly  as  —  bril 
liant  should  one  day  invest  her  brain  and  tongue  with 
suppleness. 

"What  other  things  are  you  going  to  be,  Helena?" 
she  asked.  "  I  know  that  you  can  be  anything  you 
like." 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  I  am  going  to  New  York  to 
school,  —  now,  don't  look  so  sad  :  I  've  told  you  twenty 
times  that  I  know  Don  Roberto  will  let  you  go.  Then 
I  'm  going  to  Europe.  I  'm  going  to  study  hard  —  but 
not  hard  enough  to  spoil  my  eyes.  I  'm  going  to  finish  off 
in  Paris,  and  then  I  'm  going  to  travel.  Incidentally, 
I  'm  going  to  learn  how  to  dress,  so  that  when  I  come 
back  here  I  '11  astonish  the  natives  and  be  the  best- 


The  Californians  7 

dressed  woman  in  San  Francisco ;  which  won't  be 
saying  much,  to  be  sure.  Then,  when  I  do  come 
back,  I  'm  going  to  just  rule  things,  and,  what  is  more, 
make  all  the  old  fogies  let  me.  And — and — I  am 
going  to  be  the  greatest  belle  this  State  has  ever  seen ; 
and  that  is  saying  something." 

"  Of  course  you  will  do  all  that,  Helena.  It  will  be 
so  interesting  to  watch  you.  Ila  and  Tiny  will  never 
compare  with  you.  Some  people  are  made  like  that,  — 
some  one  way  and  some  another,  I  mean.  Shall  — 
shall  —  you  ever  marry,  Helena?" 

"  Yes.  After  I  have  been  engaged  a  dozen  times  or 
so  I  shall  marry  a  great  man." 

"A  great  man?" 

"  Yes ;  I  don't  know  any,  but  they  are  charming  in 
history  and  memoirs.  I  'd  have  a  simply  gorgeous 
time  in  Washington,  and  ever  after  I  'd  have  my  pic 
ture  in  '  Famous  Women  '  books." 

"Shall  you  marry  a  president?"  asked  Magdale"na, 
deferentially.  She  was  convinced  that  Helena  could 
marry  a  reigning  sovereign  if  she  wished. 

"  I  have  n't  made  up  my  mind  about  that  yet. 
Presidents'  wives  are  usually  such  dreary-looking 
frumps  I  'd  hate  to  be  in  the  same  book  with  them. 
Besides,  most  of  the  presidents  don't  amount  to  much. 
Truthful  George  must  have  been  a  deadly  bore.  I 
prefer  Benjamin  Franklin  —  although  I  never  could 
stand  that  nose  —  or  Clay  or  Calhoun  or  Hamilton  or 
Webster.  They're  dead,  but  there  must  be  lots  more. 
I'll  find  one  for  you,  too." 


8  The  Californians 

Again  the  dark  flush  mounted  to  Magdale"na's  hair, 
as  with  an  alertness  of  motion  unusual  to  her,  she 
shook  her  head. 

"Aha!"  cried  the  astute  Helena,  "you've  been 
thinking  the  matter  over,  too,  have  you  ?  Who  is  he  ? 
Tell  me." 

Magdale"na  shook  her  head  again,  but  slowly  this 
time.  Helena  embraced  and  coaxed,  but  to  no  effect. 
Even  with  her  chosen  friend,  Magdatena  was  reticent, 
not  from  choice,  but  necessity.  But  Helena,  whose 
love  was  great  and  whose  intuitions  were  diabolical, 
leaped  to  the  secret.  "  I  know  !  "  she  exclaimed 
triumphantly.  "  It 's  a  caballero  !  " 

This  time  Magdale"na's  face  turned  almost  purple ; 
but  she  had  neither  her  sex's  quick  instinct  of  self- 
protection  nor  its  proneness  to  dissemble,  secretive 
as  she  was.  She  lifted  her  head  haughtily  and  turned 
away.  For  a  moment  she  looked  very  Spanish,  not 
the  unfortunate  result  of  coupled  races  that  she  was. 
Helena,  who  was  in  her  naughtiest  humour,  threw  back 
her  head  and  laughed  scornfully.  "A  caballero  !  "  she 
cried  :  "who  will  serenade  you  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  when  you  are  dying  with  sleep,  and  lie  in  a 
hammock  smoking  cigaritos  all  day ;  who  will  roll  out 
rhetoric  by  the  yard,  and  look  like  an  idiot  when  you 
talk  common-sense  to  him ;  who  is  too  lazy  to  walk 
across  the  plaza,  and  too  proud  to  work,  and  too  silly 
to  keep  the  Americans  from  grabbing  all  he  's  got.  I 
met  a  few  dilapidated  specimens  when  I  was  in  Los 
Angeles  last  year.  One  beauty  with  long  hair,  a  som- 


The  Californians  9 

brero,  and  a  head  about  as  big  as  my  fist,  used  to 
serenade  me  in  intervals  of  gambling  until  I  appealed 
to  Jack,  and  he  threatened  to  have  him  put  in  the 
calaboose  if  he  did  n't  let  me  alone  —  " 

Magdalena  turned  upon  her.  Her  face  was  livid. 
Her  eyes  stared  as  if  she  had  seen  the  dead  walking. 
"  Hush  !  "  she  said.  "  You  —  you  cruel  —  you  have 
everything  —  " 

Helena,  whose  intuitions  never  failed  her,  when  she 
chose  to  exercise  them,  knew  what  she  had  done, 
caught  a  flashing  glimpse  of  the  shattered  dreams  of 
the  girl  who  said  so  little,  whose  only  happiness  was  in 
the  ideal  world  she  had  built  in  the  jealously  guarded 
depths  of  her  soul.  "  Oh,  Magdalena,  I  'm  so  sorry," 
she  stammered.  "  I  was  only  joking.  And  my  states 
men  will  probably  be  horrid  old  boors.  I  know  I  '11 
never  find  one  that  comes  up  to  my  ideal."  She 
burst  into  tears  and  flung  her  arms  about  Magdale"na's 
neck  :  she  was  always  miserable  when  those  she  loved 
were  angry  with  her,  much  as  she  delighted  to  shock 
the  misprized.  "  Say  you  forgive  me,"  she  sobbed, 
"  or  I  sha'n't  eat  or  sleep  for  a  week."  And  Magda- 
le"na,  who  always  took  her  mercurial  friend  literally, 
forgave  her  immediately  and  dried  her  tears. 

II 

DON  ROBERTO  YORBA  had  escaped  the  pecuniary  ex 
tinction  that  had  overtaken  his  race.  Of  all  the  old 
grandees  who,  not  forty  years  before,  had  called  the 


io  The  Californians 

Californias  their  own :  living  a  life  of  Arcadian  mag 
nificence,  troubled  by  few  cares,  a  life  of  riding  over 
vast  estates  clad  in  silk  and  lace,  botas  and  sombrero, 
mounted  upon  steeds  as  gorgeously  caparisoned  as 
themselves,  eating,  drinking,  serenading  at  the  grat 
ings  of  beautiful  women,  gambling,  horse-racing,  taking 
part  in  splendid  religious  festivals,  with  only  the  lan 
guid  excitement  of  an  occasional  war  between  rival  gov 
ernors  to  disturb  the  placid  surface  of  their  lives,  —  of 
them  all  Don  Roberto  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  con 
sequence  to-day.  But  through  no  original  virtue  of 
his.  He  had  been  as  princely  in  his  hospitality,  as 
reckless  with  his  gold,  as  meagrely  equipped  to  cope 
with  the  enterprising  United  Statesian  who  first 
conquered  the  Californian,  then,  nefariously,  or  right 
eously,  appropriated  his  acres.  When  Commodore 
Sloat  ran  up  the  American  flag  on  the  Custom  House 
of  Monterey  on  July  seventh,  1846,  one  of  the  mid 
shipmen  who  went  on  shore  to  seal  the  victory  with 
the  strength  of  his  lungs  was  a  clever  and  restless 
youth  named  Polk.  As  his  sharpness  and  fund  of 
dry  New  England  anecdote  had  made  him  a  distinc 
tive  position  on  board  ship,  he  was  permitted  to  go  to 
the  ball  given  on  the  following  night  by  Thomas  O. 
Larkin,  United  States  Consul,  in  honour  of  the  Com 
modore  and  officers  of  the  three  warships  then  in  the 
bay.  Having  little  liking  for  girls,  he  quickly  fraternised 
with  Don  Roberto  Yorba,  a  young  hidalgo  who  had 
recently  lost  his  wife  and  had  no  heart  for  festivities, 
although  curiosity  had.  brought  him  to  this  ball  which 


The  Californians  li 

celebrated  the  downfall  of  his  country.  The  two  men 
left  the  ball-room,  —  where  the  handsome  and  resent 
ful  senoritas  were  preparing  to  avenge  California  with 
a  battery  of  glance,  a  melody  of  tongue,  and  a  witchery 
of  grace  that  was  to  wreak  havoc  among  those  gallant 
officers,  — and  after  exchanging  amenities  over  a  bowl 
of  punch,  went  out  into  the  high-walled  garden  to  smoke 
the  cigarito.  The  perfume  of  the  sweet  Castilian  roses 
was  about  them,  the  old  walls  were  a  riot  of  pink  and 
green ;  but  the  youths  had  no  mind  for  either.  The 
don  was  fascinated  by  the  quick  terse  common-sense 
and  the  harsh  nasal  voice  of  the  American,  and  the 
American's  mind  was  full  of  a  scheme  which  he  was  not 
long  confiding  to  his  friend.  A  shrewd  Yankee,  gifted 
with  insight,  and  of  no  small  experience,  young  as  he 
was,  Polk  felt  that  the  idle  pleasure-loving  young  don 
was  a  man  to  be  trusted,  and  magnetic  with  potential 
ities  of  usefulness.  He  therefore  confided  his  consum 
ing  desire  to  be  a  rich  man,  his  hatred  of  the  navy, 
and,  finally,  his  determination  to  resign  and  make  his 
way  in  the  world. 

"  I  have  n't  a  red  cent  to  bless  myself  with,"  he 
concluded.  "  But  I  Ve  got  what 's  more  important  as 
a  starter, — brains.  What's  more,  I  feel  the  power  in 
me  to  make  money.  It 's  the  only  thing  on  earth  I 
care  for ;  and  when  you  put  all  your  brains  and  energies 
to  one  thing  you  get  it,  unless  you  get  paralysis  or  an 
ounce  of  cold  lead  first." 

The  Californian,  who  had  a  true  grandee's  contempt 
for  gold,  was  nevertheless  charmed  with  the  engag- 


12  The  Californians 

\ng  frankness  and  the  unmistakable  sincerity  of  the 
American. 

"'My  house  is  yours,"  he  exclaimed  ardently.  "You 
will  living  with  me,  no  ?  until  you  find  the  moneys  ?  I 
am  —  how  you  say  it  ?  —  delighted.  Always  I  like  the 
Americanos  —  we  having  a  few.  All  I  have  is  yours, 
senor." 

"Look  here,"  exclaimed  Polk.  "I  won't  eat  any 
man's  bread  for  nothing,  but  I  '11  strike  a  bargain  with 
you.  If  you  '11  stand  by  me,  I  '11  stand  by  you.  I 
mean  to  make  money,  and  I  don't  much  care  how  I 
do  make  it ;  this  is  a  new  place,  anyhow.  But  there  's 
one  thing  I  never  do,  and  that  is  to  go  back  on  a 
friend.  You  '11  need  me,  and  my  Yankee  sharpness 
may  be  the  greatest  godsend  that  ever  came  your  way. 
I  've  seen  more  or  less  of  this  country.  It 's  simply 
magnificent.  Americans  will  be  swarming  over  the 
place  in  less  than  no  time.  They  've  begun  already. 
Then  you'll  be  just  nowhere.  Is  it  a  bargain?" 

"  It  is  !  "  exclaimed  Don  Roberto,  with  enthusiasm ; 
and  when  Polk  had  explained  his  ominations  more 
fully,  he  wrung  the  American's  hand  again. 

Polk,  after  much  difficulty,  but  through  personal 
influence  which  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  possess, 
obtained  his  discharge.  He  immediately  became  the 
guest  of  Don  Roberto,  who  lived  with  his  younger 
sister  on  a  ranch  covering  three  hundred  thousand 
acres,  and,  his  first  intention  being  to  take  up  land, 
was  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  horse-raising,  tan 
ning  hides,  and  making  tallow;  the  two  last-named 


The  Californians  13 

industries  being  pursued  for  purposes  of  barter  with 
the  Boston  skippers.  But  farming  was  not  to  Folk's 
taste ;  he  hated  waiting  on  the  slow  processes  of 
Nature.  He  married  Magdatena  Yorba,  and  borrowed 
from  Don  Roberto  enough  money  to  open  a  store  in 
Monterey  stocked  with  such  necessities  and  luxuries  as 
could  be  imported  from  Boston.  When  the  facile  Cali 
fornians  had  no  ready  money  to  pay  for  their  whole 
sale  purchases,  he  took  a  mortgage  on  the  next  hide 
yield,  or  on  a  small  ranch.  His  rate  of  interest  was 
twelve  per  cent;  and  as  the  Californians  were  never 
prepared  to  pay  when  the  day  of  reckoning  came,  he 
foreclosed  with  a  promptitude  which  both  horrified 
Don  Roberto  and  made  imperious  demands  upon  his 
admiration. 

"  My  dear  Don,"  Polk  would  say,  "  if  it  is  n't  I,  it 
will  be  some  one  else.  I  'm  not  the  only  one  —  and 
look  at  the  squatters.  I  'm  becoming  a  rich  man,  and 
if  I  were  not,  I  'd  be  a  fool.  You  had  your  day,  but 
you  were  never  made  to  last.  Your  boots  are  a  com 
fortable  fit,  and  I  propose  to  wear  them.  I  don't  mean 
yours,  by  the  way.  I  'm  going  to  look  after  you. 
Better  think  it  over  and  come  into  partnership." 

To  this  Don  Roberto  would  not  hearken ;  but  when 
the  rush  to  the  gold  mines  began  he  was  persuaded 
by  Polk  to  take  a  trip  into  the  San  Joaquin  valley  to 
"  see  the  circus,"  as  the  Yankee  phrased  it.  There,  in 
community  with  his  brother-in-law,  he  staked  off  a 
claim,  and  there  the  lust  for  gold  entered  his  veins  and 
never  left  it.  He  returned  to  Monterey  a  rich  man  in 


14  The  Californians 

something  besides  land.  After  that  there  was  little 
conversation  between  himself  and  Polk  on  any  subject 
but  money  and  the  manner  of  its  multiplication ;  and, 
as  the  years  passed,  and  Folk's  prophecy  was  fulfilled, 
he  gave  the  devotion  of  a  fanatic  to  the  retention  of 
his  vast  inheritance  and  to  the  development  of  his 
grafted  financial  faculty. 

Between  the  mines,  his  store,  and  his  various  enter 
prises  in  San  Francisco,  Polk  rapidly  became  a  wealthy 
man.  Even  in  those  days  he  was  accounted  an  un 
scrupulous  one,  but  he  was  powerful  enough  to  hold 
the  opinion  of  men  in  contempt  and  too  shrewd  to 
elbow  such  law  as  there  was.  And  his  gratitude  and 
friendship  for  Don  Roberto  never  flickered.  He  ad 
vised  him  to  invest  his  gold  in  city  lots,  and  as  him 
self  bought  adjoining  ones,  Don  Roberto  invested 
without  hesitation.  Polk  had  acquired  a  taste  for 
Spanish  cooking,  cigaritos,  and  life  on  horseback ;  his 
influences  on  the  Californian  were  far  more  subtle  and 
revolutionising.  Don  Roberto  was  still  hospitable, 
because  it  became  a  grandee  so  to  be ;  but  he  had  a 
Yankee  major-domo  who  kept  an  account  of  every 
cent  that  was  expended.  He  had  no  miserly  love  of 
gold  in  the  concrete,  but  he  had  an  abiding  sense  of 
its  illimitable  power,  all  of  his  brother-in-law's  deter 
mination  to  become  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most 
influential  men  in  the  country,  and  a  ferocious  hatred 
of  poverty.  He  saw  his  old  friends  fall  about  him  : 
advice  did  them  no  good,  and  any  permanent  alliance 
with  their  interests  would  have  meant  his  own  ruhij  so 


The  Californians  15 

he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  forgot  them.  The 
American  flag  always  floated  above  his  rooms.  In  time 
he  and  Polk  opened  a  bank,  and  he  sat  in  its  parlour 
for  five  hours  of  the  day ;  it  was  the  passion  of  his 
maturity  and  decline.  When  Folk's  sister,  some  eleven 
years  after  the  Occupation  of  California  by  the  United 
States,  came  out  to  visit  the  brother  who  had  left 
her  teaching  a  small  school  in  Boston,  he  married  her 
promptly,  feeling  himself  blessed  in  another  New  Eng 
land  relative.  She  was  thirty-two  at  the  time,  and 
her  complexion  was  dark  and  sallow :  but  she  carried 
her  tall  angular  figure  with  impressive  dignity,  and  her 
chill  manners  gave  her  a  certain  distinction.  Don 
Roberto  was  delighted  with  her,  and  as  she  was  by 
nature  as  economical  as  his  familiar  could  desire,  he 
dismissed  the  major-domo  and  gave  her  carte  blanche 
at  the  largest  shops  in  the  city ;  even  if  he  had  wished 
it,  she  could  not  have  been  induced  to  buy  more  than 
four  gowns  a  year.  But  she  was  a  very  ambitious 
woman.  As  the  wife  of  a  great  Californian  grandee, 
she  had  seen  herself  the  future  leader  of  San  Francisco 
society.  Her  ambitions  were  realised  in  a  degree 
only.  Don  Roberto  built  her  a  huge  wooden  palace 
on  Nob  Hill,  —  on  which  was  the  highest  flagstaff  and 
the  biggest  flag  in  San  Francisco,  —  placed  a  suitable 
number  of  servants  at  her  command,  and  gave  her  a 
carriage.  But  he  only  permitted  her  to  give  two  large 
dinners  and  one  ball  during  the  season,  and  would  go 
to  other  people's  entertainments  but  seldom.  As  their 
ideas  of  duty  were  equally  rigid,  she  would  not  go 


1 6  The  Califbrnians 

without  him ;  but  they  had  a  circle  of  intimate  and 
aristocratic  friends  with  whom  they  lunched  and  dined 
informally,  —  the  Polks,  the  Belmonts,  the  Montgom- 
erys,  the  Tarltons,  the  Brannans,  the  Gearys,  and  the 
Folsoms. 

They  had  been  married  ten  years  when  Magdal6na, 
their  only  child,  was  born. 


Ill 

MRS.  YORBA  was  so  ill  when  her  daughter  came  that 
the  child  struggled  miserably  into  existence,  and,  fail 
ing  to  cry,  was  put  away  as  dead,  and  forgotten  for  a 
time.  It  was  discovered  to  be  breathing  by  Mrs.  Polk, 
who  coaxed  it  through  several  months  of  puny  exist 
ence  with  all  a  native  Californian  woman's  resource. 
During  this  time  it  never  cried,  only  whimpered  miser 
ably  at  rare  intervals.  It  was  finally  discovered  to  be 
tongue-tied,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  old  enough  an  opera 
tion  was  performed.  After  that  the  child's  health 
mended,  although  she  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  use  her 
tongue.  As  she  progressed  in  years  she  still  spoke  but 
seldom,  only  mildly  remonstrating  when  Helena  Bel- 
mont  pulled  her  hair  or  vented  her  exuberant  vitality 
upon  Magdalena's  inferior  person.  Once  only  did  she 
lose  her  temper,  —  when  Helena  hung  up  all  her  dolls 
in  a  row  and  slit  them  that  she  might  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  the  sawdust  pour  out,  —  and  then  she  leaped 
upon  her  tormentor  with  a  hoarse  growl  of  rage,  and 


The  Californians  17 

the  two  pommelled  each  other  black  and  blue.  But  as 
a  rule  she  was  gentle  and  much-enduring,  and  Helena 
was  very  kind  and  clamoured  constantly  for  her  society. 
As  the  girls  grew  older  they  studied  together,  and  the 
friendship,  born  of  propinquity,  was  strengthened  by 
mutual  tastes  and  sympathy.  Helena  was  probably  the 
only  person  who  ever  understood  the  reticent  proud 
apparently  cold  and  impassive  temperament  of  the  girl 
who  was  an  unhappy  and  incongruous  mixture  of 
Spanish  and  New  England  traits ;  and  Magdale"na 
was  Helena's  most  enthusiastic  admirer  and  attentive 
audience. 

Magdalena  had  one  other  friend,  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Polk, 
for  whom  she  was  named.  That  lady  was  enormously 
stout  and  something  of  an  invalid,  but  carried  the 
tokens  of  early  beauty  in  a  skin  of  brilliant  fairness  and 
a  pair  of  magnificent  dark  eyes  fringed  with  lashes  so 
long  and  thick  that  Magdalena,  when  a  child,  found  it 
her  greatest  pleasure  to  count  them.  Mrs.  Polk  knew 
little  of  her  husband  and  liked  him  less.  She  had 
obeyed  her  brother's  orders  and  married  him,  loving  a 
dazzling  caballero  —  who  had  since  gambled  away  his 
acres  —  the  while.  But  Polk  ministered  to  the  luxury 
that  she  loved  ;  and  though  his  high-pitched  voice  never 
ceased  to  shake  her  nerves,  and  his  hard  cold  face  to 
inspire  active  dislike,  as  the  years  went  on  and  she  saw 
how  it  was  with  her  people,  she  accepted  her  lot  with 
philosophy,  and  finally  —  as  youth  fled  —  with  grati 
tude.  Mrs.  Yorba  she  detested,  but  she  loved  the 
child  she  had  saved  to  a  life  of  doubtful  happiness,  and 


1 8  The  Californians 

—  she  had  no  children  of  her  own  —  would  gladly  have 
adopted  her.  She  lived  a  life  of  retirement,  and  had  a 
scanty  though  kindly  brain  :  therefore  she  never  under 
stood  Magdale"na  as  well  as  Helena  did  at  the  age  of 
six ;  but  she  could  love  warmly,  and  that  meant  much 
to  her  niece. 

The  three  large  and  aristocratically  ugly  mansions  of 
Don  Roberto  Yorba,  Hiram  Polk,  and  Colonel  "  Jack" 
Belmont  stood  side  by  side  on  Nob  Hill.  Belmont  was 
not  as  wealthy  as  the  others,  but  a  "  palatial  residence  " 
does  not  mean  illimitable  riches  even  yet  in  San  Fran 
cisco.  Belmont  had  married  a  Boston  girl  of  far  greater 
family  pretensions  than  Mrs.  Yorba's,  but  of  no  more 
stately  appearance  nor  correct  demeanour.  The  two 
women  were  intimate  friends  until  her  husband's  notori 
ous  infidelities  and  erraticisms  when  under  the  periodi 
cal  influence  of  alcohol  killed  Mrs.  Belmont.  Neither 
Don  Roberto  nor  Polk  drank  to  excess,  and  they  kept 
their  mistresses  in  more  decent  seclusion  than  is  the 
habit  of  the  average  San  Franciscan.  It  would  never 
occur  to  Mrs.  Yorba  to  suspect  her  husband  or  any 
other  man  of  infidelity,  did  she  live  in  California  an  hun 
dred  years,  and  Mrs.  Polk  was  too  indifferent  to  give 
the  matter  a  thought. 

Although  she  lived  in  retirement,  rarely  venturing 
out  into  the  winds  and  fogs  of  San  Francisco,  Mrs.  Polk 
surrounded  herself  with  all  the  luxuries  of  a  pampered 
woman  of  wealth  and  fashion.  Her  house  was  mag 
nificent,  her  private  apartments  almost  stifling  in  their 
sumptuousness.  Polk  squeezed  every  dollar  before  he 


The  Californians  19 

parted  with  it,  but  his  wife  had  long  since  accomplished 
the  judicious  exercise  of  a  violent  Spanish  temper,  and 
her  bills  were  seldom  disputed. 

Magdalena  and  Helena  loved  these  scented  gorgeous 
apartments,  and  ran  through  the  connecting  gardens 
daily  to  see  her.  Their  delight  was  to  sit  at  her  feet 
and  listen  to  the  tales  of  California  when  the  grandee 
owned  the  land,  when  the  caballero,  in  gorgeous  attire, 
sang  at  the  gratings  of  the  beauties  of  Monterey.  Mrs. 
Polk  would  sing  these  old  love-songs  of  Spain  to  the 
accompaniment  of  the  guitar  which  had  entranced  her 
caballeros  in  the  sala  of  her  girlhood  ;  and  Helena,  who 
had  a  charming  voice,  learned  them  all  —  to  the  un 
doing  of  her  own  admirers  later  on.  It  was  she  who 
asked  a  thousand  questions  of  that  Arcadian  time,  and 
Mrs.  Polk  responded  with  enthusiasm.  Doubtless  she 
exaggerated  the  splendours,  the  brilliancy,  the  unleav 
ened  pleasure ;  but  it  was  a  time  far  behind  her,  and 
she  was  happy  again  in  the  rememoration.  As  for 
Magdalena,  she  seldom  spoke.  She  listened  with  fixed 
eyes  and  bated  breath  to  those  descriptions  of  the  beau 
tiful  women  of  her  race,  seeing  for  the  time  her  soul's 
face  as  beautiful,  gazing  at  her  reflected  image  aghast 
when  she  turned  suddenly  upon  one  of  the  long  mirrors. 
Her  soul  sang  in  accompaniment  to  her  aunt's  rich  voice, 
and  her  hands  moved  unconsciously  as  those  listless 
Spanish  fingers  swept  the  guitar.  When  Helena  imperi 
ously  demanded  to  be  taught,  and  quickly  became  as 
proficient  as  her  teacher,  Magdalena  kept  her  eyes  on 
the  floor  lest  the  others  should  see  the  dismay  in  them. 


2O  The  Californians 

Had  it  occurred  to  Mrs.  Polk  to  ask  her  niece  if  she 
would  like  to  learn  these  old  songs  of  her  race,  Magda- 
le"na  would  have  shaken  her  head  shyly,  realising  even 
sooner  than  she  did  that  there  was  no  medium  for  the 
music  in  her  soul,  as  there  was  none  for  the  thoughts  in 
her  mind.  Although  her  aunt  loved  her,  she  did  not 
scruple  to  tell  her  that  she  was  not  to  be  either  a  beau 
tiful  or  a  brilliant  woman ;  but  although  Magdalena 
made  no  reply,  she  had  a  profound  belief  that  the  Virgin 
would  in  time  grant  her  passionate  nightly  prayers  for 
a  beautiful  face  and  an  agile  tongue.  Beauty  was  her 
right ;  no  woman  of  her  father's  house  had  ever  been 
plain,  and  she  had  convinced  herself  that  if  she  were  a 
good  girl  the  Virgin  would  acknowledge  her  rights  by 
her  eighteenth  birthday.  As  her  intellect  developed, 
she  was  haunted  by  an  uneasy  scepticism  of  miracles, 
particularly  after  she  learned  to  draw,  but  she  still 
prayed  ;  it  was  a  dream  she  could  not  relinquish.  Nor 
was  this  all  she  prayed  for.  She  had  all  the  Califor- 
nian's  indolence,  which  was  ever  at  war  with  the  intel 
lect  she  had  inherited  from  her  New  England  ancestors. 
Her  most  delectable  instinct  was  to  lie  in  the  sun  or 
on  the  rug  by  the  fire  all  day  and  dream ;  and  she  was 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  Virgin  aided  her  in  the 
fight  for  mental  energy,  and  was  the  prime  factor  in  the 
long  periods  of  victory  of  mind  over  temperament. 

And  only  her  deathless  ambition  enabled  her  to  keep 
pace  with  Helena.  She  sat  up  late  into  the  night  por 
ing  over  lessons  that  her  brilliant  friend  danced  through 
while  dressing  in  the  morning.  Her  memory  was  bad, 


The  Californlans  21 

and  she  never  mastered  spelling ;  even  after  her  school 
days  were  over,  she  always  carried  a  little  dictionary  in 
her  pocket.  She  laboured  for  years  at  the  piano,  not 
only  under  her  father's  orders,  but  because  she  passion 
ately  loved  music,  but  she  had  neither  ear  nor  facility, 
and  to  her  importunities  for  both  the  Virgin  gave  no  heed. 
And  the  bitterness  of  it  all  lay  in  the  fact  that  she 
was  not  stupid ;  she  was  fully  aware  that  her  intellect 
was  something  more  than  commonplace ;  but  the  ma 
chinery  was  heavy,  and,  so  far  as  she  could  see,  there 
was  not  a  drop  of  cleverness  with  which  to  oil  the 
wheels.  She  had  read  extensively  even  before  she 
was  sixteen,  —  letters,  essays,  biographies,  histories, 
and  a  number  of  novels  by  classic  authors ;  and  al 
though  she  was  obliged  to  read  each  book  three  times 
in  order  to  write  it  on  her  memory,  she  slowly  assimi 
lated  it  and  developed  her  brain  cells.  Up  to  this 
age  she  was  seldom  actively  unhappy,  for  she  had  the 
hopes  of  youth  and  religion,  her  aunt,  Helena,  and, 
above  all,  her  sweet  inner  life,  which  was  an  almost 
constant  dwelling  upon  the  poetical  past,  linked  to  a 
future  of  exalted  ideals :  not  only  should  she  be  more 
beautiful  than  Helena  or  Tiny  Montgomery  or  Ila 
Brannan,  but  she  should  hold  rooms  spell-bound  with 
her  eloquence,  or  the  music  in  her  finger-tips ;  and 
when  in  solitude  her  soul  would  rise  to  such  heights 
as  her  fettered  mind  hinted  at  vaguely  but  insistently. 
Wild  imaginings  for  a  plain  tongue-tied  little  hybrid, 
but  what  man's  inner  life  is  like  unto  the  husk  to  whose 
making  he  gave  no  hand? 


22  The  Californians 


IV 

HELENA  remained  an  hour  longer,  then  ran  home  to 
don  a  white  frock  and  Roman  sash.  Her  father,  with 
all  his  vagaries,  seldom  failed  to  dine  at  home ;  and  he 
expected  to  find  his  little  daughter,  smartly  dressed, 
presiding  at  his  table.  His  sister,  Mrs.  Cartright,  who 
had  managed  his  house  since  his  wife's  death,  made 
no  attempt  to  manage  Helena,  and  never  thought  of 
taking  the  head  of  the  table. 

Magdatena  stood  for  some  time  looking  out  over 
the  darkening  bay,  at  the  white  mist  riding  in  to  hang 
before  the  mountains  beyond.  She  had  seen  Cali 
fornia  wet  under  blinding  rain-storms,  but  never  ugly. 
Even  the  fogs  were  beautiful,  the  great  waves  of  sand 
whirling  through  the  streets  of  San  Francisco  pictur 
esque.  California  was  associated  in  her  mind,  how 
ever,  with  perpetual  blue  skies  and  floods  of  yellow 
light.  She  had  wondered  occasionally  if  all  people 
were  not  happy  in  such  a  country,  —  where  the  sun 
shone  for  eight  months  in  the  year,  where  flowers  grew 
more  thickly  than  weeds,  and  fruit  was  abundant  and 
luscious.  She  had  read  of  the  portion  to  which  man 
was  born,  and  had  decided  that  if  Thackeray  and 
Dickens  had  lived  in  California  they  would  have  been 
more  cheerful ;  but  to-day,  assailed  by  a  presentiment 
general  rather  than  specific,  she  accepted,  for  the  first 
time,  life  in  something  like  its  true  proportions. 

"There  are  no  more  caballeros,"  she  thought,  put- 


The  Californians  23 

ting  into  form  such  sense  of  the  change  as  she  could 
grasp.  "  And  Helena  is  going  away,  for  years ;  and 
papa  will  not  let  me  go,  I  know,  although  I  mean  to 
ask  him ;  and  aunt  is  way  down  in  Santa  Barbara,  and 
writes  that  she  may  not  return  for  months.  And  I 
don't  know  my  music  lesson  for  to-morrow,  and  papa 
will  be  so  angry,  because  he  pays  five  dollars  a  lesson ; 
and  Mrs.  Price  is  so  cross."  She  paused  and  shivered 
as  the  white  fog  crept  up  to  the  verandah.  It  was 
very  quiet.  She  could  hear  the  ocean  roaring  through 
the  Golden  Gate.  Again  the  presentiment  assailed 
her.  "  None  of  those  things  was  it,"  she  thought  in 
terror.  "  Uncle  Jack  Belmont  says,  according  to 
Balzac,  our  presentiments  always  mean  something." 
She  noticed  anew  how  beautiful  the  night  was :  the 
white  wreaths  floating  on  the  water,  the  dark  blue  sky 
that  was  bursting  into  stars,  the  mysterious  outline  of 
the  hills,  the  ravishing  perfumes  rising  from  the  garden 
below.  "It  is  like  a  poem,"  she  thought.  "Why 
does  no  one  write  about  it?  Oh  !  "  with  a  hard  gasp, 
"  if  I  could  —  if  I  could  only  write  !  "  A  meteor  shot 
down  the  heavens.  For  the  moment  it  seemed  that 
the  fallen  star  flashed  through  her  brow  and  lodged, 
effulgent,  in  her  brain.  "I — I  —  think  I  could,"  she 
thought.  "I  —  I  —  am  sure  that  I  could."  And  so, 
the  cruel  desires  of  art,  and  the  tree  of  her  crucifix 
were  born. 

She  went  inside  hastily,  afraid  of  her  thoughts.  She 
changed  her  frock  for  a  white  one,  smoothed  her 
sleek  hair,  and  walked  downstairs.  She  never  ran,  like 


24  The  Californians 

Helena  —  unless,  to  be  sure,  Helena  dragged  her; 
she  had  all  the  dignity  of  her  father's  race,  all  its  iron 
sense  of  convention. 

She  went  into  the  big  parlours  to  await  her  parents' 
return ;  they  had  been  spending  a  day  or  two  at  their 
country  house  in  Menlo  Park,  and  would  return  in  time 
for  dinner.  The  gas  had  been  lighted  and  turned 
low;  Magdalena  had  never  seen  any  rooms  but  her 
own  in  this  house  sufficiently  lighted  by  day  or  by 
night,  except  when  guests  were  present.  Mrs.  Yorba 
would  waste  neither  gas  nor  carpets ;  in  consequence, 
the  house  had  a  somewhat  sepulchral  air;  even  its 
silence  was  never  broken,  save  when  Helena  gave  a 
sudden  furious  war-whoop  and  slid  down  the  banisters. 

The  walls  of  the  parlour  were  tinted  a  pale  buff,  the 
ceilings  frescoed  with  cherubs  and  flowers.  On  the 
great  plate-glass  windows  were  curtains  of  dark  red 
velvet  trimmed  with  gold  fringe.  The  large  square 
pieces  of  furniture  were  upholstered  with  red  velvet. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  a  red  Brussels  carpet  with 
a  design  of  squirming  devil-fish.  Three  or  four  small 
chairs  were  covered  with  Indian  embroidery,  and  there 
were  two  Chinese  tables  of  teak-wood  and  mottled 
marble.  Gas  having  been  an  afterthought,  the  pipes 
were  visible,  although  painted  to  match  the  walls. 
Magdalena  had  seen  few  rooms  and  had  not  awakened 
to  the  hideousness  of  these ;  her  aunt  had  mingled 
little  taste  with  her  splendour,  and  the  Belmont  man 
sion  was  furnished  throughout  its  lower  part  in  satin 
damask  with  no  attempt  at  art's  variousness. 


The  Californians  25 

Magdatena  opened  the  piano  and  felt  vaguely  for 
the  music  in  the  keys.  She  forgot  the  star,  remem 
bered  only  her  passionate  love  of  exultant  sound,  her 
longing  to  find  the  soul  of  this  most  mysterious  of  all 
instruments.  But  her  stiff  fingers  only  sprawled  help 
lessly  over  the  keys,  and  after  a  few  moments  she 
desisted  and  sat  staring  with  dilating  eyes,  the  pre 
sentiment  again  assailing  her.  Her  shattered  caballe- 
ros  rose  before  her,  but  she  shook  her  head ;  they, 
under  what  influence  she  knew  not,  had  faded  out  into 
ghost-land. 

A  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door.  She  went  forward 
and  stood  in  the  hall,  awaiting  her  parents.  They 
entered  almost  immediately.  Both  kissed  her  lightly, 
her  mother  inquiring  absently  if  she  had  been  a  good 
girl,  and  remarking  that  she  had  neuralgia  and  should 
go  to  bed  at  once.  Her  father  grunted  and  asked 
her  if  she  and  Helena  Belmont  had  behaved  them 
selves,  and,  more  particularly,  if  she  had  been  outside 
the  house  without  an  attendant;  he  never  failed  to 
ask  this  when  he  had  been  away  from  the  house  for 
twenty-four  hours.  Magdale"na  replied  in  the  negative, 
and  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  confess  her  minor 
sins.  She  had  a  conscience,  but  she  had  also  a  strong 
distaste  for  her  father's  temper. 

Don  Roberto  had  been  a  handsome  caballero  in 
his  youth,  but  his  face,  like  that  of  most  Californians, 
had  coarsened  as  it  receded  from  its  prime.  The 
nose  was  thick,  the  outlines  of  the  jaw  lost  in  rolls 
of  flesh.  But  the  full  curves  of  his  mouth  had  been 


26  The  Californians 

compressed  into  a  straight  line,  and  the  consequent 
elevation  of  the  lower  lip  had  almost  obliterated  an 
originally  weak  chin.  He  was  bald  and  wore  a  skull 
cap,  but  his  black  eyes  were  fiery  and  restless,  his  skin 
fair  with  the  fairness  of  Castile.  He  went  to  his  room, 
and  Magdalena  did  not  see  him  again  until  dinner  was 
announced.  She  saw  little  of  her  parents.  There  is 
not  much  fireside  life  in  California.  There  was  none 
in  the  Yorba  household.  Mrs.  Yorba  was  a  martyr  to 
neuralgia,  and  such  time  as  was  not  passed  in  the 
seclusion  of  her  chamber  was  devoted  to  the  manifold 
cares  of  her  household  and  to  her  small  circle  of 
friends.  Don  Roberto  would  not  permit  her  to  belong 
to  charitable  associations,  nor  to  organisations  of  any 
kind,  and  although  she  regretted  the  prestige  she 
might  have  enjoyed  as  president  of  such  concerns, 
she  had  long  since  found  herself  indemnified  :  Don 
Roberto's  social  restrictions  had  unwittingly  given  her 
the  position  of  the  most  exclusive  woman  in  San  Fran 
cisco.  As  time  went  on,  it  gave  people  a  certain  dis 
tinction  to  be  on  her  visiting  list.  When  Mrs.  Yorba 
realised  this,  she  looked  it  over  carefully  and  cut  it 
down  to  ninety  names.  After  that,  hostesses  whose 
position  was  as  secure  as  her  own  begged  her  per 
sonally  to  go  to  their  balls.  Her  own  yearly  contribu 
tion  to  the  season's  socialities  was  looked  forward 
to  with  deep  anxiety.  It  was  the  stiffest  and  dullest 
affair  of  the  year,  but  not  to  be  there  was  to  be  writ 
ten  down  as  second  of  the  first.  So  was  greatness 
thrust  upon  Mrs.  Yorba,  who  never  returned  to  her 


The  Californians  27 

native  Boston,  lest  she  might  once  more  feel  the  pangs 
of  nothingness.  She  loved  her  daughter  from  a  sense 
of  duty  rather  than  from  any  animal  instinct,  but  never 
petted  nor  made  a  companion  of  her.  Nevertheless 
she  watched  over  her  studies,  literary  excursions,  and 
associates  with  a  vigilant  eye. 

Magdale"na's  companions  were  the  objects  of  her 
severe  maternal  care.  Once  a  year  in  town  and  once 
during  the  summer  in  Menlo  Park,  Magdale"na  had  a 
luncheon  party,  the  guests  chosen  from  the  very  inner 
circle  of  Mrs.  Yorba's  acquaintance.  The  youngsters 
loathed  this  function,  but  were  forced  to  attend  by 
their  distinguished  parents.  Magdale"na  sat  at  one 
end  of  the  table  and  never  uttered  a  word.  The  only 
relief  was  Helena,  who  talked  bravely,  but  far  less  than 
was  her  wont ;  the  big  dark  dining-room,  panelled  to 
the  ceiling  with  redwood,  and  hung  with  the  progeni 
tors  of  the  haughty  house  of  Yorba,  the  gliding  Chinese 
servants,  the  eight  stiff  miserable  little  girls,  with  their 
starched  white  frocks,  crimped  hair,  and  vacant  glances, 
oppressed  even  that  indomitable  spirit.  On  one  awful 
occasion  when  even  Helena's  courage  had  failed  her, 
and  she  was  eating  rapidly  and  nervously,  the  children 
with  one  accord  burst  into  wild  hysterical  laughter. 
They  stopped  as  abruptly  as  they  had  begun,  staring 
at  one  another  with  expanded  horrified  eyes,  then 
simultaneously  burst  into  tears.  Helena  went  off  into 
shrieks  of  laughter,  and  Magdal£na  hurriedly  left  the 
room,  and  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  wept  bitterly. 
When  she  went  downstairs  again,  she  found  Helena 


28  The  Californians 

making  a  brave  attempt  to  entertain  the  others  in  the 
large  garden  behind  the  house.  They  were  swinging 
and  playing  games,  and  looked  much  ashamed  of  them 
selves.  When  they  went  home  each  kissed  Magdalena 
warmly,  and  she  forgave  them  and  wished  that  she 
could  see  them  oftener.  She  was  never  allowed  to  go 
to  lunch-parties  herself.  Occasionally  she  met  them  at 
Helena's,  where  they  romped  delightedly,  appropri 
ating  the  entire  house  and  yelling  like  demons,  but 
taking  little  notice  of  the  quiet  child  who  sat  by  Mrs. 
Cartright,  listening  to  that  voluble  dame's  tales  of 
the  South  before  the  war,  too  shy  and  too  Spanish  to 
romp.  Even  at  that  early  age,  they  respected  and  rather 
feared  her.  As  she  grew  older,  it  became  known  that 
she  was  "  booky,"  —  asocial  crime  in  San  Francisco. 
As  for  Helena,  she  was  one  of  those  favoured  mortals 
that  are  permitted  to  be  anything  they  please.  She, 
too,  devoured  books,  but  she  did  so  many  other  things 
besides  that  people  forgot  the  idiosyncrasy,  or  were 
willing  to  overlook  it. 

Don  Roberto  spent  his  leisure  hours  with  his  friends 
Hiram  Polk  and  Jack  Belmont.  There  was  no  resource 
of  the  town  unknown  to  these  elderly  rakes ;  and  the 
older  they  grew  the  more  they  enjoyed  themselves. 
On  fine  evenings  they  always  rode  out  to  the  Presidio  or 
to  the  Cliff  House ;  and  it  was  one  of  the  sights  of  the 
town,  —  these  three  leading  citizens  and  founders  of  the 
city's  prosperity :  Don  Roberto,  fat,  but  riding  his  big 
chestnut  with  all  the  unalterable  grace  of  the  Califor- 
nian ;  Polk,  stiff  and  spare,  his  narrow  grey  face  un- 


The  Californians  29 

changed  from  year  to  year,  ambling  along  on  a  piebald ; 
dashing  Jack  Belmont,  a  cavalry  officer  to  his  death, 
his  long  black  moustachios  flying  in  the  wind,  a  flap 
ping  hat  pulled  low  over  his  abundant  curls,  bestriding 
a  mighty  black.  All  three  men  were  somewhat  old- 
fashioned  in  their  attire ;  they  went  little  into  society, 
preferring  the  more  various  life  beyond  its  pale. 


V 

HALF  of  the  dinner  passed  in  unbroken  silence. 
Magdatena  sat  at  one  end  of  the  table,  her  father  at 
the  other,  their  wants  attended  to  by  three  Chinese 
servants.  Magdale"na  was  not  eating :  she  was  sum 
moning  up  courage  to  speak  on  a  subject  that  was  fast 
conquering  her  reticence.  Her  thoughts  were  not  in 
terrupted.  Don  Roberto  was  a  man  of  few  words. 
He  had  been  an  eloquent  caballero  in  his  youth,  but 
had  grown  to  be  as  careful  of  words  as  of  investments. 
He  liked  to  be  amused  by  women ;  but,  as  he  rightly 
judged,  no  amount  of  development  could  make  his 
wife  and  daughter  amusing,  so  he  encouraged  them  to 
hold  their  tongues.  He  deeply  resented  Magdale"na's 
lack  of  beauty ;  all  the  women  of  his  house  had  been 
famous  throughout  the  Californias  for  their  beauty.  It 
was  the  duty  of  a  Yorba  to  be  beautiful  —  while  young ; 
after  thirty  it  mattered  nothing. 

Magdatena  had  completed  the  structure  of  her  cour- 


jo  The   Californians 

age.     She  did  nothing  by  halves,  and  she  knew  that 
she  should  not  break  down. 

"  Papa,"  she  said. 

"Well?" 

"  Helena  is  going  to  New  York  and  to  Paris  to 
school.  She  is  going  to  live  with  relatives,  but  she  will 
attend  school." 

"She  need." 

"  I  thought  you  liked  Helena." 

"  I  like ;  but  she  need  the  discipline  more  than  all 
the  girls  in  California." 

"  I  shall  be  very  lonely  without  her." 

"  Suppose  so  ;  but  now  is  the  time  to  learn  plenty, 
and  no  think  so  much  by  the  play." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  with  her." 

"  Suppose  so." 

"May  I?" 

"  No." 

"  But  you  would  not  miss  me,  nor  mamma  either." 

"  I  choose  you  shall  be  educate  at  home.  I  no  ap 
prove  of  the  schools.  Si  Helena  Belmont  was  my 
daughter,  I  take  the  green  hide  reata  to  her  every 
morning  ;  but  Belmont  so  soffit,  the  school  is  better  for 
her.  You  stay  here.  No  say  any  more  about  it." 

"Could  I  not  travel  with  her  after?  I  want  to 
travel." 

"  Si  I  find  time  one  day  go  abroad,  I  take  you ;  but 
you  no  go  with  Helena  Belmont.  I  no  am  surprise  si 
she  make  herself  the  talk  of  Europe." 

"  Could  not  mamma  go  with  me  ?  '' 


The  Californians  31 

"  Your  mother  no  leave  the  husband  !  Never  she 
propose  such  a  thing  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  you  will  be  able  to  go  soon?  " 

"  Very  doubt.  The  Californian  who  leave  the  busi 
ness  for  a  year  working  like  the  dog  for  five  after.  Si 
he  find  one  red  cent  when  he  come  back,  he  is  lucky. 
The  man  no  knowing  just  where  he  is  even  when  he 
stand  over  the  spot." 

"  Then  when  Helena  goes,  can  I  go  to  Santa  Barbara 
for  awhile  and  visit  aunt?  " 

"  You  no  can  !  I  no  wish  you  ask  the  reason.  You 
never  go  to  the  South  !  Never  before  you  talk  so 
much,  by  Scott !  " 


VI 

MAGDAL£NA  had  failed  at  every  point.  She  had  ex 
pected  to  fail,  but  she  felt  miserable  and  discouraged, 
nevertheless.  After  dinner  she  went  up  to  her  room 
and  prayed  to  the  Virgin.  In  time  she  felt  comforted, 
her  tears  ceased,  and  she  sat  thinking  for  some  time  at 
the  foot  of  her  little  altar.  With  the  sad  philosophy 
of  her  nature  she  put  the  impossible  from  her,  and  con 
sidered  the  future.  It  had  been  arranged  long  ago 
that  she  and  Helena,  Ila  and  Tiny,  were  to  come  out 
at  the  same  time ;  the  great  function  which  should 
introduce  to  San  Francisco  three  of  its  most  beautiful 
girls,  and  its  most  favoured  by  lineage  and  fortune,  was 
to  be  given  by  Mrs.  Yorba.  The  other  girls  would 


3 2  The  Californians 

come  out  a  year  earlier  or  later.  Ila  and  Tiny  were 
already  in  Europe.  She  had  three  uninterrupted  years 
before  her.  In  those  years  she  could  do  much.  When 
she  was  not  studying,  she  would  read  the  best  authors 
and  learn  their  secret.  Her  father  had  no  library,  but 
Colonel  Belmont  had,  and  she  was  a  life  member  of 
the  Mercantile  Library;  the  membership  had  been 
presented  to  her  two  birthdays  ago  by  her  luncheon 
guests,  who  respected  what  they  would  not  emulate. 
She  pressed  her  face  into  her  hands,  striving  to  arrange 
the  nebulous  thoughts  and  ambitions  which  burned  in 
her  brain. 

There  was  a  wild  ringing  of  bells.  She  raised  her 
head  and  saw  a  red  glare,  then  rose  and  walked  over 
to  the  window.  She  thought  a  fire  very  beautiful ;  and 
as  there  were  many  in  that  city  of  wood  and  wind,  she 
had  had  full  opportunity  to  observe  their  manifold 
phases.  Her  bedroom  adjoined  the  schoolroom,  but 
was  on  the  corner  of  the  house  at  the  back,  and  over 
looked  not  only  the  business  part  of  the  city  between 
the  foot  of  the  hill  and  the  bay,  but  the  region  known 
as  "South  of  Market  Street."  This  large  valley  had 
its  aristocratic  quarter,  but  it  was  now  largely  given 
over  to  warehouses,  depots,  and  streets  of  the  poor. 
A  month  seldom  passed  without  a  big  blaze  in  this 
closely  built  combustible  section.  To-night  there  was 
a  long  narrow  ribbon  of  flame  twisting  in  the  wind, 
which  in  a  few  moments  would  leap  from  block  to 
block,  licking  up  the  flimsy  dwellings  as  a  cat  licks  up 
milk.  Above  the  ribbon  flew  a  million  sparks,  turning 


The  Californians  33 

the  stars  from  gold  to  white.  Every  moment  the  wind 
twisted  the  ribbon  into  wonderful  fantastic  shapes, 
which  beset  Magdal£na's  brain  for  words  as  beautiful. 

She  listened  intently.  Some  one  was  climbing  a 
pillar  of  the  balcony.  It  was  Helena,  of  course  :  she 
often  chose  that  laborious  method  of  entering  a  house 
whose  doors  were  always  open  to  her.  Magdalena 
opened  the  back  window  and  stepped  out  on  to  the 
balcony. 

"  Is  that  you,  Helena  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Is  it  ?    Just  you  wait  till  you  see  me  !  " 

A  moment  later  she  had  clambered  over  the  railing 
and  stood  before  the  astonished  Magdalena. 

"  What  —  what  —  " 

"  Boys'  clothes.  Can't  you  see  for  yourself?  I  'm 
going  to  the  fire,  and  you  're  going  with  me." 

"  Of  course  I  shall  not.     What  possessed  you  —  " 

But  the  astute  Helena  detected  a  lack  of  decision  in 
her  friend's  voice.  "  You  're  just  dying  to  go,"  she 
said  coaxingly.  "  You  adore  fires,  and  you  'd  love  to 
see  one  close  to.  Put  a  waterproof  on  and  a  black 
shawl  over  your  head.  Then  if  anybody  notices  you, 
they  '11  think  you  're  a  miichacha  from  Spanish  town. 
As  I  am  a  boy,  I  can  protect  you  beautifully.  We  '11 
go  to  the  livery  stable  and  I  '11  make  old  Duff  give  me 
a  hack.  I  "ve  a  pocket  full  of  boodle ;  papa  gave  me 
my  allowance  to-day.  Here,  come  in."  She  dragged 
the  unresisting  Magdalena  into  the  room,  arrayed  her 
in  a  waterproof,  and  pinned  a  black  shawl  tightly  about 
the  small  brown  face.  "There  !  "  she  said  triumphantly, 
3 


34  The  Californians 

"  you  look  like  a  poor  little  greaser,  for  all  the  world. 
Don  Roberto  would  have  a  fit.  Do  you  think  you  can 
slide  down  the  pillar?" 

"  I  don't  know  —  yes,  I  am  sure  I  can  if  you  can." 
Her  Spanish  dignity  was  aghast,  but  her  newborn 
creative  instinct  stung  her  spirit  into  a  sudden  over 
powering  desire  for  dramatic  incident.  "Yes,  I  '11  go," 
she  whispered,  closer  to  excitement  than  Helena  had 
ever,  save  once,  seen  her.  "  I  '11  go." 

"  Of  course  !  I  knew  you  would.  I  always  knew 
you  were  a  brick  ;  come  !  Quick  !  I  '11  go  first."  She 
slid  down  the  pillar,  which  she  could  easily  clasp  with 
her  long  arms  and  legs ;  and  Magdatena,  after  a  gasp, 
followed,  shivering  with  terror,  but  too  proud  to  utter 
a  sound.  Before  she  had  reached  the  bottom  she  had 
lost  all  interest  in  the  fire ;  she  no  longer  wanted  to 
write  poetry ;  she  wished  frantically  to  be  back  in  the 
security  of  her  room.  But  she  reached  the  ground 
safely;  and  although  she  fell  in  a  heap,  she  quickly 
pulled  herself  together  and  stood  up,  holding  her  head 
higher  than  ever.  And  when  she  was  on  the  sidewalk, 
in  disguise,  unattended  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  her 
very  nerves  sang  with  exultation,  and  she  was  filled 
with  a  wild  longing  for  a  night  replete  with  adventure. 

"  'Le'na  !  "  whispered  Helena,  ecstatically.  "  Is  n't 
this  gorgeous?" 

Magdal£na  nodded.  Her  brain  and  heart  were 
throbbing  too  loud  for  speech. 

"  I  'm  going  to  fires  for  the  rest  of  my  life,"  an 
nounced  Helena,  as  they  turned  the  corner  and  walked 


The  Californians  35 

swiftly  down  the  hill.  She  was  not  of  the  order  which 
is  content  with  one  experience,  even  while  that  initial 
experience  is  yet  a  matter  of  delightful  anticipation. 

When  they  reached  the  livery  stable,  Helena  marched 
in,  holding  Magdalena  firmly  by  the  hand.  "  I  want 
a  hack,"  she  said  peremptorily  to  the  man  in  charge. 
"And  double  quick,  too."  The  man  stared,  but  Hel 
ena  rattled  the  gold  in  her  pocket,  and  he  called  to 
two  men  to  hitch  up. 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  he  whispered  to  his  associates, 
"  it 's  those  kids  of  Jack  Belmont's  and  old  Yorba's, 
or  I  'm  a  dead  man.  But  it  ain't  none  of  my  business, 
and  I  ain't  one  to  peach.  I  like  spirit." 

"  We  're  going  to  the  fire,  and  I  wish  the  hack  to 
wait  for  us,"  said  Helena,  as  he  signified  that  all  was 
ready.  "  I  '11  pay  you  now.  How  much  is  it?  " 

"Ten  dollars,"  he  replied  unblushingly. 

Helena  paid  the  money  like  a  blood,  Magdalena 
horrified  at  the  extravagance.  Her  own  allowance  was 
five  dollars  a  month.  "  Can  you  really  afford  this, 
Helena?"  she  asked  remonstrantly,  as  the  hack  slid 
down  the  steep  hill. 

"  I  got  fifty  dollars  out  of  Jack  to-night.  He  's  feel 
ing  awfully  soft  over  my  going  away.  Poor  old  Jack, 
he  '11  feel  so  lonesome  without  me.  But  we  '11  have 
a  gay  old  time  travelling  together  in  Europe  when  I  'm 
through." 

Magdalena  did  not  speak  of  her  conversation  with 
her  own  parent.  She  did  not  want  to  think  of  it. 
This  night  was  to  be  one  of  uniform  joy.  They  were 


36  The  Californians 

a  quarter  of  an  hour  reaching  the  fire.  As  they  turned 
into  the  great  central  artery  of  the  city,  Market  Street, 
they  leaned  forward  and  gazed  eagerly  at  the  dense 
highly  coloured  mass  of  men  and  women,  mostly  young, 
that  promenaded  the  north  sidewalk  under  a  blaze 
of  gas. 

"  What  queer-looking  girls  ! "  said  Magdatena.  "Why 
do  they  wear  so  many  frizzes,  and  sailor  hats  on  one 
side?" 

"  They  're  chippies,"  said  Helena,  wisely. 

"What's  chippies?" 

"  Girls  that  live  south  of  Market  Street.  They  work 
all  day  and  promenade  with  their  beaux  all  evening. 
As  I  live,  'Le'na,  we  're  going  down  Fourth  Street. 
We  '11  go  right  through  Chippytown." 

They  had  been  south  of  Market  Street  before,  for 
Ila  and  Tiny  lived  on  the  aristocratic  Rincon  Hill;  but 
their  way  had  always  lain  down  Second  Street,  which 
was  old,  but  stately  and  respectable.  Fourth  Street, 
like  Market  Street  by  night,  would  be  a  new  country ; 
but  after  a  few  moments'  eager  attention  Helena 
sniffed  with  disappointment.  The  narrow  street  and 
those  branching  from  it  were  ill-lighted  and  deserted ; 
there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  but  low-browed  shops. 
But  there  was  always  the  red  glare  beyond  ;  and  in  a 
few  moments  the  conflagration  burst  upon  them  in  all 
its  terrible  magnificence. 

They  sprang  out  of  the  hack  and  walked  rapidly  to 
the  edge  of  the  crowd,  which  filled  the  street  in  spite 
of  the  warning  cries  of  the  firemen  and  the  angry 


The  Californlans  37 

shouts  of  the  policemen.  The  fire  was  devouring  four 
large  squares  and  sending  leaping  branches  to  isolated 
dwellings  beyond.  A  great  furniture  factory  and  in 
numerable  tenements  were  vanishing  like  icicles  under 
a  hot  sun. 

The  girls,  careless  of  the  severe  jostling  they  re 
ceived,  stared  in  fascinated  amazement  at  the  red 
tongues  darting  among  the  blackened  shells,  the  crash 
ing  roofs,  the  black  masses  of  smoke  above,  cut  with 
narrow  swords  of  flame,  the  solid  pillar  of  fire  above 
the  factory,  the  futile  streams  of  water,  the  gallant 
efforts  of  the  firemen.  Magdatena,  hardly  knowing 
why,  reflected  with  deep  satisfaction  that  a  fire  was 
even  more  wonderful  at  close  quarters  than  when 
viewed  from  a  distance.  Every  detail  delighted  her ; 
but  when  a  clumsy  boy  stepped  on  her  toes,  she  drew 
Helena  into  a  sand  lot  opposite,  where  it  was  less 
crowded.  It  was  then  that  she  noticed  for  the  first 
time  the  weeping  women  gathered  about  their  house 
hold  goods.  She  stared  at  them  for  a  moment,  then 
shook  the  rapt  Helena  by  the  arm. 

"Look!"  she  whispered.  "What  is  the  matter 
with  those  people?" 

"What?"  asked  Helena,  absently.  "Oh,  don't  I 
wish  I  were  on  that  house  with  a  hose  in  my  hand  ! 
What  a  lovely  exciting  life  a  fireman's  must  be  !  " 
Then,  yielding  to  Magdatena's  insistence,  she  turned 
and  directed  her  gaze  to  the  people  in  the  lot  behind 
her.  "  Oh,  the  poor  things  !  "  she  said,  forgetting  the 
fire.  "  They  've  been  burnt  out.  Let 's  talk  to  them." 


3  8  The  Californians 

The  two  girls  approached  the  unfortunate  creatures, 
who  were  wailing  loudly,  as  if  at  a  wake. 

"  Poor  devils  !  "  exclaimed  Helena.  "  I  am  so  glad 
I  have  some  silver  with  me." 

"And  I  have  nothing  to  give  them,"  thought  Mag- 
dal£na,  bitterly  ;  but  she  was  too  proud  to  speak.  She 
stared  at  them,  her  brain  a  medley  of  new  sensations, 
as  Helena  went  about,  questioning,  fascinating,  sym 
pathising,  giving.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen 
poverty ;  she  had  barely  heard  of  its  existence ;  it  had 
never  occurred  to  her  that  great  romanticists  conde 
scended  to  borrow  from  life.  It  was  not  abject  poverty 
that  she  witnessed,  by  any  means.  There  were  no 
hollow  cheeks  here,  no  pallid  faces,  no  shrunken  limbs. 
It  was,  save  for  the  passing  distress,  to  which  they 
were  not  unaccustomed,  a  very  jolly,  hearty,  contented 
poverty.  Their  belongings  were  certainly  mean,  but 
solid  and  sufficient.  Nevertheless,  to  Magdale"na,  who 
had  been  surrounded  by  luxury  from  her  birth,  and 
had  rarely  been  in  a  street  of  less  importance  than 
her  own,  these  commonly  clad  creatures,  weeping  over 
their  cheap  household  goods,  seemed  the  very  dregs  of 
the  earth.  Her  keen  enjoyment  fled.  She  was  sure 
she  could  never  be  happy  again  with  so  much  misery 
in  the  world.  If  her  father  would  only —  she  recalled 
his  contempt  for  charities,  the  prohibition  he  had  laid 
on  her  mother.  She  determined  to  pray  all  night  to 
the  Virgin  to  soften  his  heart.  When  the  Virgin  had 
been  allowed  a  reasonable  time,  she  would  beg  him  to 
give  her  a  monthly  allowance  to  devote  to  the  poor. 


The  Californians  39 

The  Virgin  had  failed  her  many  times,  but  must  surely 
hearken  to  so  worthy  a  petition  as  this.  She  stood 
apart.  No  one  noticed  her.  She  had  nothing  to  give. 
They  were  showering  blessings  upon  Helena,  who  was 
walking  about  with  a  cocky  little  stride,  well  pleased 
with  herself. 

Suddenly  Helena  wheeled  and  ran  over  to  Magdal^na. 

"  I've  given  away  my  last  red,"  she  said.  "It's 
lucky  I  paid  for  that  hack  in  advance.  Let 's  get  out. 
Those  I  have  n't  given  any  to  will  be  down  on  me  in  a 
minute.  Besides,  it 's  getting  late.  A-ou-u  ! " 

A  policeman  had  tapped  her  roughly  on  the  shoulder. 
She  gazed  at  him  in  speechless  terror  for  a  half-moment, 
then  gasped,  "  W-h-a-t  do  you  want?" 

"  I  want  you  two  young  uns  for  the  lock-up,"  he 
said  curtly.  The  struggling  crowd  had  lashed  his 
pugnacity  and  ensanguined  his  temper.  As  an  addi 
tional  indignity,  the  saloon  had  been  burned,  and  he 
had  not  had  a  drink  for  an  hour.  "  I  '11  run  you  in 
for  wearing  boys'  clothes ;  have  you  ever  heard  the 
penalty  for  that,  miss?  And  I  '11  run  in  this  little 
greaser  as  a  vagrant." 

Helena  burst  into  shrieks  of  terror,  clinging  to  Mag- 
dal£na,  who  comforted  her  mechanically,  too  terrified, 
herself,  to  speak.  Even  in  that  awful  moment  it  was 
her  father  she  feared,  not  the  law. 

"  Shut  up  !  "  exclaimed  the  officer.  "  None  of  that." 
He  paused  abruptly  and  regarded  Helena  closely.  She 
was  searching  wildly  in  her  pockets.  "  Oh,  if  you  've 
got  a  fiver,"  he  said  easily,  "  I  '11  call  it  square." 


40  The  Californians 

"  I  have  n't  so  much  as  a  five-cent  piece,"  sobbed 
Helena,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  tears.  "  Oh,  'Lena,  what 
shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  You  '11  come  with  me  !  that 's  what  you  '11  do."  He 
took  them  firmly  by  the  hand  and  dragged  them  through 
the  crowd,  a  section  of  which  had  transferred  its  atten 
tions  to  the  victims  of  the  officer's  wrath.  But  the 
three  were  soon  hurrying  up  a  dark  cross-street  toward 
a  car ;  and  as  they  went  Helena  recovered  herself,  and 
began  to  cast  about  among  her  plentiful  resource. 
She  dared  not  risk  telling  this  man  their  names,  and 
bid  him  take  them  home  in  hope  of  reward,  for  he 
would  certainly  demand  that  reward  of  their  scandalised 
parents.  No,  she  decided,  she  would  confide  in  the 
dignitary  in  charge  at  the  station ;  and  as  soon  as  he 
knew  who  she  was,  he  would  be  sure  to  let  them  go  at 
once. 

They  went  up  town  on  a  street-car.  Helena  had 
never  been  in  one  before,  and  the  experience  inter 
ested  her;  but  Magdalena  sat  dumb  and  wretched. 
She  had  been  a  docile  child,  and  her  father's  anger 
had  never  been  visited  upon  her;  but  she  had  seen 
his  frightful  outbursts  at  the  servants,  and  once  he  had 
horsewhipped  a  Mexican  in  his  employ  until  the  lad's 
shrieks  had  made  Magdalena  put  her  fingers  in  her 
ears.  He  would  not  whip  her,  of  course ;  but  what 
would  he  do  ?  And  this  horrid  man,  who  was  of  the 
class  of  her  father's  coachman,  had  called  her  a 
"greaser."  She  had  all  the  pride  of  her  race.  The 
insult  stifled  her.  She  felt  smirched  and  degraded. 


The  Californians  41 

Nor  was  this  all :  she  had  had  her  first  precise  expe 
rience  of  the  pall  that  lines  the  golden  cloud. 

The  officer  motioned  to  the  conductor  to  stop  in 
front  of  a  squat  building  in  front  of  the  Old  Plaza. 
The  man,  whose  gall  had  been  slowly  rising  for  want 
of  drink,  hurried  them  roughly  off  the  car  and  across 
the  sidewalk  into  a  dark  passage.  Their  feet  lagged, 
and  he  shoved  them  before  him,  flourishing  his 
bludgeon. 

"  Git  on  !  Git  on  !  "  he  said.  "  There  's  no  gittin' 
out  of  this  until  you  've  served  your  time." 

The  words  and  the  dark  passage  made  Helena 
shiver.  What  if  they  would  not  give  her  a  chance 
to  speak,  but  should  lock  her  up  at  once  ?  She  knew 
nothing  of  these  dark  doings  of  night.  Perhaps  the 
policeman  would  take  them  directly  to  a  cell.  In 
that  case,  she  must  confide  in  him. 

They  entered  a  room,  and  her  confidence  returned. 
A.  man  sat  at  a  desk,  an  open  ledger  before  him.  He 
was  talking  to  several  tramps  who  stood  in  various  un 
easy  attitudes  in  front  of  the  desk.  His  face  was  tired, 
but  his  eyes  had  a  humourous  twinkle.  He  did  not 
glance  at  the  new-comers. 

"  Sit  down,"  commanded  the  policeman,  "  and  wait 
your  turn." 

The  girls  sat  down  uncomfortably  on  the  edge  of  a 
bench.  In  a  moment  they  noticed  a  young  man  sitting 
near  the  desk  and  writing  on  a  small  pad  of  paper. 
He  looked  up,  looked  again,  regarding  them  intently, 
then  rose  and  approached  the  policeman. 


42  The  Californians 

"  Hello,  Tim,"  he  said.  "What  have  you  got  here? 
A  girl  in  boys'  clothes?" 

"That  's  about  the  size  of  it." 

Helena  pulled  her  cap  over  her  eyes  and  reddened 
to  her  hair.  For  the  first  time  she  fully  realised  her 
position.  She  was  Colonel  Jack  Belmont's  daughter, 
and  she  was  waiting  in  the  city  prison  as  a  common 
vagrant.  Magdale"na  bent  her  head,  pulling  the  shawl 
more  closely  about  her  face. 

The  young  man  looked  them  over  sharply.  "  They 
are  the  kids  of  somebodies,"  he  said  audibly.  "  Look 
at  their  hands.  There  's  a  '  story  '  here." 

Helena  turned  cold  and  set  her  teeth.  She  had  no 
idea  who  the  young  man  might  be,  but  instinct  told 
her  that  he  threatened  exposure. 

A  few  moments  later  the  tramps  had  gone,  and  the 
man  at  the  desk  asked  the  policeman  what  charge  he 
preferred  against  his  arrests. 

"  This  one  's  a  girl  in  boys'  clothes,  sir,  and  both,  I 
take  it,  are  vagrants.  The  House  of  Correction  is  the 
place  for  'em,  I  'm  thinkin'." 

Magdale"na's  head  sank  still  lower,  and  she  dug  her 
nails  into  her  palms  to  keep  from  gasping.  But  Helena, 
in  this  crucial  moment,  was  game.  She  walked  boldly 
forward  and  said  authoritatively,  — 

"  I  wish  to  speak  alone  with  you." 

The  sergeant  recognised  the  great  I  AM  of  the 
American  maiden ;  he  also  recognised  her  social  al 
titude.  But  he  said,  with  what  severity  he  could 
muster,  — 


The  Californians  43 

"  If  you  have  anything  private  to  say,  you  can  whis 
per  it." 

Helena  stepped  behind  the  desk  and  put  her  lips 
close  to  his  ear.  "  I  am  Colonel  Jack  Belmont's 
daughter,"  she  whispered.  "  Send  me  home,  quick, 
and  he  '11  make  it  all  right  with  you  to-morrow." 

"  A  chip  of  the  old  block,"  muttered  the  sergeant, 
with  a  smile.  "  I  see.  And  who  is  your  companion?" 

Helena  hesitated.  "  Do  —  do  I  need  to  tell  you?  " 
she  asked. 

"  You  must,"  firmly. 

"  She  's  —  you  '11  never  breathe  it?  " 

"  You  must  leave  that  to  my  discretion.  I  shall  do 
what  is  best." 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  Don  Roberto  Yorba." 

"  O  Lord  !  O  Lord  1  "  He  threw  back  his  head 
and  gave  a  prolonged  chuckle. 

The  young  man  edged  up  to  the  desk. 

"Who  is  that  man?"  demanded  Helena,  haughtily. 
She  felt  quite  mistress  of  the  situation. 

"  He  's  a  reporter." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Why,  a  reporter  for  the  newspapers." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  newspapers,"  said  Helena, 
with  an  annihilating  glance  at  the  reporter.  "  My 
father  does  not  permit  me  to  read  them." 

The  sergeant  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  This  is  no  place 
for  you,"  he  muttered.  "  That 's  the  best  thing  I  've 
heard  of  Jack  Belmont  for  some  time.  Here,  come 
along,  both  of  you." 


44  The  Californians 

He  motioned  to  the  girls  to  enter  the  passage,  and 
turned  to  the  officer.  "  Don't  let  anybody  leave  the 
room  till  I  come  back,"  he  said ;  and  the  reporter, 
who  had  started  eagerly  forward,  fell  back  with  a  scowl. 
"  There  's  no  '  story '  in  this,  young  man,"  said  the 
sergeant,  severely ;  "  and  you  '11  oblige  me,"  with  sig 
nificant  emphasis,  "  by  making  no  reference  to  it." 

"  I  think  you  're  just  splendid  !  "  exclaimed  Helena, 
as  they  went  down  the  passage. 

"  Oh,  well,  we  all  like  your  father.  Although  it 
would  be  a  great  joke  on  him,  —  Scott,  but  it  would  ! 
However,  it  would  n't  be  any  joke  on  you  a  few  years 
from  now,  so  I  'm  going  to  send  you  home  with  a  little 
good  advice,  —  don't  do  it  again." 

"  But  it 's  such  fun  to  run  to  fires  !  "  replied  Helena, 
who  now  feared  nothing  under  heaven.  "  We  did  have 
a  time  !  " 

"Well,  if  you're  set  on  running  to  fires,  go  in  your 
own  good  clothes,  with  money  enough  in  your  pocket 
to  grease  the  palm  of  people  like  our  friend  Tim. 
Here  we  are." 

He  called  a  hack  and  handed  the  girls  in. 

"Please  tell  him  to  stop  a  few  doors  from  the 
house,"  said  Helena ;  "  and,"  with  her  most  engaging 
smile,  "  I  'm  afraid  I  '11  have  to  ask  you  to  pay  him. 
If  you  '11  give  me  your  address,  I  '11  send  you  the 
amount  first  thing  to-morrow." 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it.  Just  ask  your  father  to  vote 
for  Tom  Shannon  when  he  runs  for  sheriff.  It 's  no 
use  asking  anything  of  old  Yorba,"  he  added,  with 


The  Californians  45 

some  viciousness.  "  And  I  'd  advise  you,  young  lady, 
to  keep  this  night's  lark  pretty  dark." 

The  remark  was  addressed  to  Magdale'na,  but  she 
only  lifted  her  head  haughtily  and  turned  it  away. 
Helena  replied  hastily,  — 

"  My  father  shall  vote  for  you  and  make  all  his 
friends  vote,  too.  I  won't  tell  him  about  this  until 
next  Wednesday,  the  day  before  I  leave  for  New  York ; 
then  he  '11  be  feeling  so  badly  he  won't  say  a  word,  and 
he  '11  be  so  grateful  to  you  that  he  '11  do  anything. 
Good-night." 

"  Good-night,  miss,  and  I  guess  you  '11  get  along  in 
this  world." 

As  the  carriage  drove  off,  Helena  threw  her  arms 
about  Magdale'na,  who  was  sitting  stiffly  in  the  corner. 
"Oh,  darling,  dearest!"  she  exclaimed.  "  What  have 
I  made  you  go  through  ?  And  you  're  so  generous, 
you  '11  never  tell  me  what  a  villain  I  am.  But  you 
will  forgive  me,  won't  you?" 

"  I  am  just  as  much  to  blame  as  you  are.  I  was  not 
obliged  to  go." 

"But  it  was  dreadful,  wasn't  it?  That  horrid  low 
policeman  !  The  idea  of  his  daring  to  put  his  hand  on 
my  shoulder.  But  we  '11  just  forget  it,  and  next  week, 
to-morrow,  it  will  be  as  if  it  never  had  happened." 

Magdale'na  made  no  reply. 

'"Lena!"  exclaimed  Helena,  sharply.  "You're 
never  going  to  own  up?" 

"  I  must,"  said  Magdale'na,  firmly.  "  I  've  done  a 
wicked  thing.  I  've  disobeyed  my  father,  who  thinks 


46  The  Californians 

it 's  horrible  for  girls  to  be  on  the  street  even  in  the 
daytime  alone,  and  I  've  nearly  disgraced  him.  I  've 
no  right  not  to  tell  him.  I  must ! " 

"  That 's  your  crazy  old  New  England  conscience  ! 
If  you  were  all  Spanish,  you  'd  look  as  innocent  as  a 
madonna  for  a  week,  and  if  you  were  my  kind  of  Cali- 
fornian  you  7d  cheek  it  and  make  your  elders  feel  that 
they  were  impertinent  for  taking  you  to  task." 

"  You  are  half  New  England." 

"  So  I  am,  but  I  'm  half  Southerner,  too,  and  all 
Californian.  I  'm  just  beautifully  mixed.  You  're  not 
mixed  at  all ;  you  're  just  hooked  together.  Come  now, 
say  you  won't  tell  him.  He  's  a  terror  when  he  gets 
angry." 

"  I  must  tell  him.  I  'd  never  respect  myself  again 
if  I  did  n't.  I  Ve  done  lots  of  other  things  and  did  n't 
tell,  but  they  didn't  matter, — that  is,  not  so  much. 
He  's  got  a  right  to  know." 

"  It 's  a  pity  you  're  not  more  like  him,  then  you 
would  n't  tell." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Helena?  I  am  sure  my 
father  never  told  a  lie." 

Helena  was  too  generous  to  tell  what  she  knew.  She 
asked  instead,  "  I  wonder  would  your  conscience  hurt 
you  so  hard  if  everything  had  turned  out  all  right,  and 
we  were  coming  home  in  our  own  hack?  " 

Magdal£na  thought  a  moment.  "  It  might  not  to 
night,  but  it  would  to-morrow.  I  am  sure  of  that,"  she 
said. 

Helena    groaned.      "You    are    hopeless.      Thank 


The  Californians  47 

Heaven,  I  was  born  without  a  conscience,  —  that  kind, 
anyhow.  I  intend  to  be  a  law  all  to  myself.  I  'm 
Californian  clear  through  into  my  backbone." 

The  hack  stopped.  The  girls  alighted  and  walked 
slowly  forward.  Mr.  Belmont's  house  was  the  first  of 
the  three. 

"Well,"  said  Helena,  "here  we  are.  I'm  going  to 
climb  up  the  pillar  and  walk  along  the  ledge.  How 
are  you  going  in?  " 

"  Through  the  front  door." 

"Well,  if  you  will,  you  will,  I  suppose.  Kiss  me 
good-night." 

Magdatena  kissed  her  and  walked  on.  A  half- 
moment  later  Helena  called  after  her  in  a  loud 
whisper,  — 

"  Take  off  that  shawl !  " 

Magdatena  lifted  her  hand  to  her  chin,  then  dropped 
it.  When  she  reached  her  own  home,  she  rang  the 
bell  firmly.  The  Chinaman  who  opened  the  door 
stared  at  her,  the  dawn  of  an  expression  on  his  face. 

"  Where  is  Don  Roberto  ?  "  she  asked. 

"In  loffice,  missee." 

Magdale"na  crossed  the  hall  and  tapped  at  the  door 
of  the  small  room  her  father  called  his  office.  Don 
Roberto  grunted,  and  she  opened  the  door  and  went 
in.  He  was  writing,  and  wheeled  about  sharply. 

"What?"  he  exclaimed.  "What  the  devil !  Take 
that  shawl  off  the  head." 

Magdatena  removed  the  shawl  and  sat  down. 

"1  went  to  a  fire,"  she  said.     "I  got  taken  up  by 


48  The  Californlans 

a  policeman  and  went  to  the  station.  A  man  named 
Tom  Shannon  said  he  wouldn't  lock  me  up,  and  sent 
me  home.  He  paid  for  the  carriage."  She  paused, 
looking  at  her  father  with  white  lips. 

His  face  had  turned  livid,  then  purple.  "Dios/n  he 
gasped.  "  Dies  /"  And  then  she  knew  how  furious 
her  father  was.  When  his  life  was  in  even  tenor  he 
never  used  his  native  tongue.  "Dies/"  he  repeated. 
"  Tell  that  again.  You  go  with  that  little  devil,  Helena 
Belmont,  I  suppose.  Madre  de  Dios  !  Again  !  Again  ! " 

"  I  went  to  a  fire  —  south  of  Market  Street.  A 
policeman  arrested  me  for  a  vagrant.  He  called  me 
a  greaser  —  " 

Her  father  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  yell  of  rage. 
He  caught  his  riding-whip  from  the  mantel. 

She  stumbled  to  her  feet.  "  Papa ! "  she  said. 
"  Papa  !  You  will  not  do  that !  " 

A  few  moments  later  she  was  in  her  own  room. 
The  stars  shone  full  on  her  pretty  altar.  She  turned 
her  back  on  it  and  sat  down  on  the  floor.  She  had 
not  uttered  a  word  as  her  father  beat  her.  Even  now 
she  barely  felt  the  welts  on  her  back.  But  her  self- 
respect  had  been  cut  through  at  every  blow,  and  it 
quivered  and  writhed  within  her.  She  hated  her 
father  and  she  hated  life  with  an  intensity  which 
added  to  her  misery,  and  she  decided  that  she  had 
made  her  last  confession  to  any  one  but  the  priest, 
who  always  forgave  her.  If  she  did  wrong  in  the 
future  and  her  father  found  it  out,  well  and  good ; 
but  she  would  not  be  the  one  to  tell  him. 


The  Californians  49 


VII 

IT  was  a  part  of  her  punishment  that  she  was  to  be 
locked  in  her  room  until  Helena  left  for  New  York ; 
but  Helena  visited  her  every  night  in  her  time-hon 
oured  fashion.  Magdale"na  never  told  of  the  blows, 
but  confinement  was  a  sufficient  excuse  to  her  rest 
less  friend  for  any  amount  of  depression  ;  and  Helena 
coaxed  twenty  dollars  out  of  her  father  and  bought 
books  and  bonbons  for  the  prisoner,  which  she  care 
fully  disposed  about  her  person  before  making  the 
ascent.  Magdale"na  hid  her  presents  in  a  bureau 
drawer ;  and  it  is  idle  to  deny  that  they  comforted 
her.  One  of  the  books  was  "Jane  Eyre,"  and  another 
Mrs.  Gaskell's  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte.  They  fired 
her  with  enthusiasm,  and  although  she  cried  all  night 
after  the  equally  tearful  Helena  had  said  good-bye  to 
her,  she  returned  to  them  next  day  with  undiminished 
enthusiasm. 

The  Sunday  after  Helena's  departure  she  was  per 
mitted  to  go  to  church.  She  was  attended  by  her 
mother's  maid,  a  French  girl  and  a  fervid  Catholic. 
St.  Mary's  Cathedral,  in  which  Don  Roberto  owned 
a  pew  that  he  never  occupied,  was  at  that  time  on 
the  corner  of  California  and  Dupont  streets. 

Magdale"na  prayed  devoutly,  but  only  for  the  re- 
establishment  of  her  self-respect,  and  the  grace  of 
oblivion  for  the  degradation  to  which  her  father  had 
subjected  her.  Later,  she  intended  to  pray  that  he 

4 


5<D  The  Californians 

might  be  forgiven,  both  by  herself  and  God,  and  that 
his  heart  should  be  softened  to  the  poor ;  but  not  yet. 
She  must  be  herself  again  first. 

Her  head  had  been  aching  for  two  days,  the  result 
of  long  confinement  and  too  many  bonbons.  It 
throbbed  so  during  service  that  she  slipped  out,  whis 
pering  to  the  maid  that  she  only  wanted  a  breath  of 
fresh  air  and  would  be  back  shortly. 

She  stood  for  a  few  moments  on  the  steps.  Her 
head  felt  better,  and  she  noticed  how  peaceful  the  city 
looked ;  yet,  as  ever,  with  its  suggestion  of  latent  fev- 
erishness.  She  had  heard  Colonel  Belmont  say  that 
there  was  no  other  city  in  the  world  like  it,  and  as 
she  stood  there  and  regarded  the  precipitous  heights 
with  their  odd  assortment  of  flimsy  "palaces"  and 
dilapidated  structures  dating  back  to  the  Fifties,  she 
felt  the  vague  restlessness  that  brooded  over  every 
thing,  and  understood  what  he  had  meant ;  and  she 
also  knew  that  she  understood  as  he  had  not.  Above 
was  the  dazzling  sky,  not  a  fleck  in  its  blue  fire. 
There  was  not  a  breath  of  wind  in  the  city.  She  had 
never  known  a  more  peaceful  day.  And  yet,  if  at 
any  moment  the  earth  had  rocked  beneath  her  feet, 
she  would  have  felt  no  surprise. 

She  felt  the  necessity  for  exercise.  It  was  now  over 
a  week  since  she  had  been  out  of  her  room,  and  dur 
ing  that  time  she  had  not  only  studied  as  usual,  but 
read  and  read  and  read.  She  did  not  remember  to 
have  ever  been  so  nervous  before.  She  could  not  go 
back  into  the  Cathedral ;  it  was  musty  in  itself  and 


The  Calitbrmans  51 

crowded  with  the  Great  Unwashed.  But  it  would 
not  be  right  to  disturb  Julie.  There  could  be  no 
harm  in  the  least  bit  of  a  walk  alone,  particularly  as 
her  father  was  in  Menlo  Park.  She  glanced  about  her 
dubiously.  Chinatown,  which  began  a  block  to  her 
right,  was  out  of  the  question,  although  she  would 
have  liked  to  see  the  women  and  the  funny  little 
Chinese  babies  that  she  had  heard  of:  the  fortu 
nate  Helena  had  been  escorted  through  Chinatown 
by  her  adoring  parent  and  a  policeman.  She  did  not 
care  to  climb  twice  the  almost  perpendicular  hill  which 
led  to  her  home,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  was  the 
business  part  of  the  city.  There  was  only  one  other 
way,  and  it  looked  quiet  and  deserted  and  generally 
inviting. 

She  crossed  California  Street  and  walked  along 
Dupont  Street.  She  saw  to  her  surprise  that  the 
houses  were  small  and  mean ;  those  the  fire  had  eaten 
had  hardly  been  worse.  They  had  green  outside 
blinds  and  appeared  to  date  from  the  discovery  of 
gold  at  least. 

"There  are  poor  people  so  near  us,"  she  thought. 
"  Even  Helena  never  guessed  it.  I  am  glad  the  plate 
had  not  been  handed  round;  I  will  give  some  one 
my  quarter." 

The  houses  were  very  quiet.  The  shutters  were 
closed,  but  the  slats  were  open.  She  glanced  in,  but 
saw  no  one. 

"  Probably  they  are  all  in  the  Cathedral,"  she 
thought.  "I  am  glad  it  is  so  close  to  them." 


5  2  The  Californians 

She  walked  on,  forgetting  the  houses  for  the  minute, 
absorbed  in  her  new  appreciation  of  the  strange  sug- 
gestiveness  of  San  Francisco.  Again,  something  was 
shaping  itself  in  her  mind,  demanding  expression.  She 
felt  that  it  would  have  the  power  to  make  her  forget 
all  that  she  did  not  wish  to  remember,  and  thought 
that  perhaps  this  was  the  sponge  for  the  slate  the 
Virgin  was  sending  in  answer  to  her  prayers. 

Suddenly,  almost  in  her  ear,  she  heard  a  low  chuckle. 
She  started  violently;  in  all  her  life  she  had  never 
heard  anything  so  evil,  so  appalling,  as  that  chuckle. 
It  had  come  from  the  window  at  her  left.  She  turned 
mechanically,  her  spirits  sinking  with  nameless  terror. 

Her  expanded  eyes  fastened  upon  the  open  shutters. 
A  woman  sat  behind  them ;  at  least,  she  was  cast  in 
woman's  mould.  Her  sticky  black  hair  was  piled  high 
in  puffs,  —  an  exaggeration  of  the  mode  of  the  day. 
Her  thick  lips  were  painted  a  violent  red.  Rouge  and 
whitewash  covered  the  rest  of  her  face.  There  was 
black  paint  beneath  her  eyes.  She  wore  a  dirty  pink 
silk  dress  cut  shamefully  low. 

The  blood  burned  into  Magdatena's  cheeks.  Of 
sin  she  had  never  heard.  She  had  no  name  for  the 
creature  before  her,  but  her  woman's  instinct  whispered 
that  she  was  vile. 

The  woman,  who  was  regarding  her  malevolently, 
spoke.  Magdal£na  did  not  understand  the  purport 
of  her  words,  but  she  turned  and  fled  whence  she  had 
come.  As  she  did  so,  the  chuckle,  multiplied  a  dozen- 
fold,  surrounded  her.  She  stopped  for  a  second  and 


The  Californians  53 

cast  a  swift  glance  about  her,  fascinated,  for  all  her 
protesting  horror. 

Behind  every  shutter  which  met  her  gaze  was  the 
duplicate  of  the  creature  who  had  startled  her  first. 
As  they  saw  her  dismay,  their  chuckle  broke  into  a 
roar,  then  split  into  vocabulary.  Magdalena  ran  faster 
than  she  had  ever  run  in  her  life  before.  Suddenly  she 
saw  Colonel  Belmont  sauntering  down  California  Street, 
debonair  as  ever.  His  long  moustaches  swept  his 
shoulders.  His  soft  hat  was  on  the  back  of  his  head, 
framing  his  bold  handsome  dissipated  face.  His  frock- 
coat,  but  for  the  lower  button,  was  open,  and  stood  out 
about  the  dazzling  shirt,  well  revealed  by  a  low  vest. 

"  Uncle  Jack  !  "  screamed  Magdalena.  "  Uncle 
Jack  ! " 

Colonel  Belmont  jumped  as  if  a  battery  had  ripped 
up  the  ground  in  front  of  him.  Then  he  dashed 
across  the  street.  "Good  God  !"  he  shouted.  "Good 
God!"  He  caught  Magdalena  in  his  arms  and  car 
ried  her  back  to  the  shadow  of  the  cross. 

"  You  two  have  been  possessed  by  the  devil  of  late," 
he  began  wrathfully,  but  Magdalena  interrupted  him. 

"No!  no!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  didn't  know 
there  was  anything  different  there  from  any  other 
street.  I  did  n't  mean  to." 

"  Well,  I  don't  suppose  you  did.  You  never  know 
where  you  are  in  this  infernal  town,  anyhow.  Where 's 
your  maid  ?  " 

But  Magdalena  had  fainted. 


54  The  Californians 


VIII 

AFTER  that,  Magdal£na  had  brain  fever.  It  was  a 
sharp  but  brief  attack,  and  when  she  was  convalescent 
the  doctor  ordered  her  to  go  to  the  country  at  once 
and  let  her  school-books  alone.  As  Mrs.  Yorba  never 
left  her  husband  for  any  consideration,  Magdalena  was 
sent  to  Menlo  Park  with  Miss  Phelps.  The  time  came 
when  Magdalena  hated  the  monotony  of  Menlo,  with 
its  ceaseless  calling  and  driving,  its  sameness  of  days 
and  conversation ;  but  at  that  age  she  loved  the 
country  in  any  form. 

Menlo  Park,  originally  a  large  Spanish  grant,  had 
long  since  been  cut  up  into  country  places  for  what 
may  be  termed  the  "  Old  Families  of  San  Francisco." 
The  eight  or  ten  families  that  owned  this  haughty  pre 
cinct  were  as  exclusive,  as  conservative,  as  any  group 
of  ancient  county  families  in  Europe.  Many  of  them 
had  been  established  here  for  twenty  years,  none  for 
less  than  fifteen.  That  fact  set  the  seal  of  gentle 
blood  upon  them  for  all  time  in  the  annals  of  Cali 
fornia,  —  a  fact  in  which  there  is  nothing  humourous 
if  you  look  at  it  logically ;  there  is  really  no  reason 
why  a  new  country  should  not  take  itself  seriously. 

Don  Roberto  owned  a  square  mile  known  as  Fair 
Oaks,  in  honour  of  the  ancient  and  magnificent  woods 
upon  it.  These  woods  were  in  three  sections,  sepa 
rated  by  meadows,  and  there  was  a  broad  road  through 
each,  but  not  a  twig  of  the  riotous  underbrush  had 


The  Californians 

been  sacrificed  to  a  foot-path.  A  hundred  acres  about 
the  house  —  which  was  a  mile  from  the  entrance  to 
the  estate  —  had  been  cleared  for  extensive  lawns, 
ornamental  trees,  and  a  deer  park. 

Directly  in  front  of  the  house,  across  the  driveway 
and  starting  from  a  narrow  walk  between  two  great 
lawns,  was  a  solitary  eucalyptus-tree,  one  of  the  few  in 
the  State  at  the  time  of  its  planting.  It  was  some  two 
hundred  feet  high  and  creaked  alarmingly  in  heavy 
winds ;  but  Don  Roberto,  despite  Mrs.  Yorba's  protes 
tations,  would  not  have  it  uprooted  :  he  had  a  particu 
lar  fondness  for  it  because  it  was  so  little  like  the  palms 
and  magnolias  of  his  youth. 

To  the  left  of  the  house  at  the  end  of  an  avenue 
of  cherry-trees  was  an  immense  orchard  surrounded 
by  an  avenue  of  fig-trees,  and  English  walnut-trees. 

The  house  was  as  unlike  the  adobe  mansions  of  the 
old  grandees  as  was  the  eucalyptus  the  palms.  It 
was  large,  square,  two-storied,  and  although  of  wood, 
of  massive  appearance.  It  was,  indeed,  the  most  solid- 
looking  structure  in  California  at  that  time.  A  deep 
verandah  traversed  three  sides  of  the  house,  its  roof 
making  another  beneath  the  bedroom  windows.  Its 
pillars  were  hidden  under  rose  vines  and  wistaria. 
The  thirty  rooms  were  somewhat  superfluous,  as  Don 
Roberto  would  have  none  of  house-parties,  but  he 
could  not  have  breathed  in  a  small  house.  The  rooms 
were  very  large  and  lofty,  the  floors  covered  with  mat 
ting,  the  furniture  light  and  plain.  Above,  as  from  the 
town  house,  floated  the  American  flag. 


5  6  The  Califormans 

Colonel  Belmont's  estate  adjoined  Fair  Oaks  on  one 
side,  the  Montgomerys'  on  the  other ;  and  the  Brannans, 
Kearneys,  Gearys,  Washingtons,  and  Folsoms  all  spent 
their  summers  in  that  sleepy  valley  between  the  waters 
of  the  San  Francisco  bay  and  the  redwood-covered  moun 
tains  ;  these  and  others  who  have  nothing  to  do  with 
this  tale.  Hiram  Polk  had  no  home  in  Menlo,  except 
ing  in  his  brother-in-law's  house.  Some  of  his  wife's 
happiest  memories  were  of  the  Rancho  de  los  Pulgas, 
and  she  refused  to  witness  its  possession  by  the  hated 
American.  So  Polk  had  bought  her  one  of  the  old 
adobe  houses  in  Santa  Barbara,  and  each  year  she 
extended  the  limit  of  her  sojourn  in  a  town  where 
memories  were  still  sacred. 


IX 

MAGDAL£NA  was  languid  and  content.  She  put  the 
terrible  experiences  which  had  preceded  her  illness  be 
hind  her  without  effort.  Her  mind  dwelt  upon  the  joy 
of  living  in  the  sunshine,  and  upon  the  hopes  of  the 
future.  She  admitted  frankly  that  she  was  glad  to  be 
rid  of  her  parents,  and  only  longed  for  Helena.  That 
faithful  youngster  wrote,  twice  a  week,  letters  which  were 
a  succession  of  fireworks  embellished  by  caricatures  of 
such  of  her  teachers  and  acquaintance  as  had  incurred 
her  disapproval.  Her  aunt,  Mrs.  Edward  Forbes,  who 
was  one  of  the  leaders  of  New  York  society  and  a 
beauty,  was  giving  her  much  petting  and  would  take 
her  abroad  later. 


The  Californians  57 

Magdatena  read  these  letters  with  delight  stabbed 
with  doubt.  More  than  once  she  had  wondered  if 
Helena  had  been  born  to  realise  all  her  own  ambi 
tions.  Even  her  letters  were  clever  and  original. 

In  a  week  Magdalena  was  strong  enough  to  walk  in 
the  woods,  and  Miss  Phelps  placed  no  restraint  upon 
her.  She  re-read  what  books  she  had,  then  made  out 
a  list  and  sent  it  to  her  father  to  purchase,  believing 
that  he  would  refuse  her  nothing  after  her  illness.  Don 
Roberto  read  the  note,  grunted,  and  threw  it  into  the 
waste-paper  basket.  He  abominated  erudite  women, 
and  had  the  scorn  of  the  financial  mind  for  the  super 
fluous  attributes  of  the  intellectual.  Magdalena  waited 
a  reasonable  time,  then  after  a  day's  hard  fight  with 
the  reticence  of  her  nature,  wrote  and  asked  Colonel 
Belmont  for  the  books.  He  sent  them  at  once,  with  a 
penitent  note  and  an  order  on  the  principal  bookseller 
of  the  city  for  all  that  she  might  want  in  the  future. 
"  I  will  say  a  prayer  to  the  Virgin  for  him,"  thought 
Magdalena,  with  a  glow  at  her  heart,  oblivious  that  the 
Virgin  had  refused  to  intercede  with  her  father. 

The  packet  contained  the  lives  of  a  number  of  men 
and  women  who  had  distinguished  themselves  in  let 
ters  ;  but  although  Magdalena  read  them  twice  they 
told  her  little,  save  that  she  must  read  the  works 
of  the  masters  and  puzzle  out  their  methods  if  she 
could. 

Meanwhile,  in  spite  of  her  studies,  she  was  growing 
strong,  for  she  spent  the  day  out  of  doors ;  and  when 
her  parents  came  down  on  the  first  of  June,  they  found 


58  The  Californians 

her  as  shy  and  cold  as  ever,  but  with  sparkling  eyes  and 
a  faint  glow  in  her  cheeks. 

"But  never  she  is  beauty,"  said  Don  Roberto,  that 
evening  to  Polk,  as  the  two  men  sat  on  the  verandah, 
smoking.  "  Before,  I  resent  very  much,  and  say  dam 
nation,  damnation,  damnation.  But  now  I  think  I  no 
mind.  Si  she  is  beauty  I  think  more  often  by  that  time 
—  no  can  help.  I  wonder  si  there  are  the  beautiful 
women  in  the  South  now,  like  before ;  but,  by  Jimminy  ! 
I  like  forget  the  place  exeest.  I  am  an  American. 
Yes,  Great  Scott !  " 

He  stretched  out  his  little  fat  legs  and  rested  his 
third  chin  on  his  inflexible  shirt-front.  He  felt  an 
American,  every  inch  of  him,  and  hated  anything  that 
reminded  him  of  what  he  might  become  did  he  yield 
to  the  natural  indolence  and  extravagance  of  his  nature. 
He  would  gladly  have  drained  his  veins  and  packed 
them  with  galloping  American  blood.  It  grieved  him 
that  he  could  not  eliminate  his  native  accent,  and  he 
was  persuaded  that  he  spoke  the  American  tongue  in  all 
its  purity,  being  especially  proud  of  a  large  assortment 
of  expletives  peculiar  to  the  land  of  his  adoption. 

Polk  gave  a  short  dry  laugh  and  stretched  out  his 
long  hard  Yankee  legs.  Even  in  the  dusk  his  lan 
tern  jaws  stood  out.  There  was  no  doubt  about  his 
nationality.  Those  legs  and  jaws  were  the  objects  of 
Don  Roberto's  abiding  envy. 

"  Pretty  women  in  the  family  are  a  nuisance,"  said 
Polk.  "They  want  the  earth,  and  don't  see  why  they 
should  n't  get  it.  I  would  n't  have  that  Helena  for 


The  Californians  59 

another  million.  By  the  way,  Jack  told  me  a  good 
story  on  you  yesterday." 

Don  Roberto  grunted.  His  Spanish  pride  had  not 
abated  an  inch.  He  resented  being  discussed. 

Polk  continued  :  "  There  were  seven  or  eight  men 
talking  over  old  times  in  the  Union  Club  the  other 
night;  that  is  to  say,  they  were  reminiscing  over  the 
various  enterprises  they  had  been  engaged  in,  and  the 
piles  they  had  made  and  lost.  Our  names  naturally 
came  up,  and  Brannan  said,  slowly,  as  if  he  were  think 
ing  it  over  hard,  'I — don't  —  think  —  I  —  had  — 
any  —  dealings  —  with  —  Yorba  —  ever.'  Whereupon 
Washington  replied,  quick  as  a  shot,  '  You  'd  remem 
ber  it  if  you  had.'  " 

Don  Roberto  scowled  heavily.  It  was  one  of  his 
fictions  that  he  hoodwinked  the  world.  He  never 
snapped  his  fingers  in  its  face  as  Polk  did  :  exteriorly 
a  Yorba  must  always  be  a  Yorba. 

"  Some  day  when  the  bank  have  lend  Meester  Wash 
ington  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  I  turn  on  the 
screw  when  he  no  is  prepare  to  pay,"  he  said.  And 
he  did. 


X 

DURING  the  following  week  all  Menlo,  which  had 
moved  down  before  Mrs.  Yorba,  called  on  that  august 
leader.  She  received  every  afternoon  on  the  verandah, 
clad  in  black  or  grey  lawn,  stiff,  silent,  but  sufficiently 


60  The  Californians 

gracious.  On  the  day  after  her  arrival,  as  the  first  visi 
tor's  carriage  appeared  at  the  bend  of  the  avenue,  its 
advent  heralded  by  the  furious  barking  of  two  mastiffs, 
a  bloodhound,  and  an  English  carriage  dog,  Magdalena 
gathered  up  her  books  and  prepared  to  retreat,  but  her 
mother  turned  to  her  peremptorily. 

"I  wish  you  to  stay,"  she  said.  "You  must  begin 
now  to  see  something  of  society.  Otherwise  you  will 
have  no  ease  when  you  come  out.  And  try  to  talk. 
Young  people  must  talk." 

"But  I  can't  talk,"  faltered  Magdalena. 

"  You  must  learn.  Say  anything,  and  in  time  it  will 
be  easy." 

Magdalena  realised  that  her  mother  was  right.  If 
she  was  to  overcome  her  natural  lack  of  facile  speech, 
she  could  not  begin  too  soon.  Although  she  was  terri 
fied  at  the  prospect  of  talking  to  these  people  who 
had  alighted  and  were  exchanging  platitudes  with  her 
mother,  she  resolved  anew  that  the  time  should  come 
when  she  should  be  as  ready  of  tongue  and  as  graceful 
of  speech  as  her  position  and  her  pride  demanded. 

She  sat  down  by  one  of  the  guests  and  stammered 
out  something  about  the  violets.  The  young  woman 
she  addressed  was  of  delicate  and  excessive  beauty : 
her  brunette  face,  under  a  hat  covered  with  corn- 
coloured  plumes,  was  almost  faultless  in  its  outline. 
She  wore  an  elaborate  and  dainty  French  gown  the 
shade  of  her  feathers,  and  her  small  hands  and  feet 
were  dressed  to  perfection.  Magdalena  had  heard  of 
the  beautiful  Mrs.  Washington,  and  felt  it  a  privilege  to 


The  Californians  61 

sun  herself  in  such  loveliness.  The  three  elderly  ladies 
she  had  brought  with  her — Mrs.  Cartright,  Mrs. 
Geary,  and  Mrs.  Brannan  —  were  dressed  with  ex 
treme  simplicity. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Washington,  "  they  are  lovely,  — 
they  are,  for  a  fact.  Mine  have  chilblains  or  some 
thing  this  year,  and  won't  bloom  for  a  cent.  Hang  the 
luck  !  I  'm  as  cross  as  a  bear  with  a  sore  head  about 
it." 

"Would  you  like  me  to  pick  some  of  ours  for 
you?"  asked  Magdalena,  wondering  if  she  had  better 
model  her  verbal  accomplishments  on  Mrs.  Washing 
ton's.  She  thought  them  even  more  picturesque  than 
Helena's. 

"  Do  ;  that 's  a  jolly  good  fellow." 

When  Magdalena  returned  with  the  violets,  they 
were  received  with  a  bewitching  but  absent  smile ; 
another  carriage-load  had  arrived,  and  all  were  discus 
sing  the  advent  of  a  "  Bonanza  "  family,  whose  huge 
fortune,  made  out  of  the  Nevada  mines,  had  recently 
lifted  it  from  obscurity  to  social  fame. 

"It's  just  too  hateful  that  I've  got  to  call,"  said 
Mrs.  Washington,  in  her  refined  melodious  voice. 
"  Teddy  says  that  I  must,  because  sooner  or  later  we  've 
all  got  to  know  them,  —  old  Dillon 's  a  red  Indian  chief 
in  the  financial  world ;  and  there 's  no  use  kicking 
against  money,  anyhow.  But  I  can't  cotton  to  that 
sort  of  people,  and  I  just  cried  last  night  when  Teddy 
—  the  old  darling  !  I  'd  do  anything  to  please  him  — 
told  me  I  must  call." 


62  The  Californians 

"  It 's  a  great  pity  we  old  families  can't  keep  to 
gether,"  said  Mrs.  Brannan,  a  stout  high-nosed  dame. 
"  There  are  plenty  of  others  for  them  to  know.  Why 
can't  they  let  us  alone?" 

"  That 's  just  what  they  won't  do,"  cried  Mrs.  Wash 
ington.  "  We  're  what  they  're  after.  What 's  the 
reason  they've  come  to  Menlo  Park?  They'll  be 
'  landed  aristocracy '  in  less  than  no  time.  Hang  the 
luck  !  " 

"Shall  you  call,  Hannah?"  asked  Mrs.  Cartright. 
"  Dear  Jack  never  imposes  any  restrictions  on  me,  — 
he 's  so  handsome  about  everything ;  so  I  shall  be 
guided  by  you." 

"  In  time,"  replied  Mrs.  Yorba,  who  also  had  had  a 
meaning  conference  with  her  husband.  "  But  I  shall 
not  rush.  Toward  the  end  of  the  summer,  perhaps. 
It  would  be  unwise  to  take  them  up  too  quickly." 

"  I  've  got  to  give  them  a  dinner,"  said  Mrs.  Wash 
ington,  with  gloom.  "  But  I  '11  put  it  off  till  the  last 
gun  fires.  And  you  've  all  got  to  come.  Otherwise 
you'll  see  me  on  the  war-path." 

"  Of  course  we  shall  all  go,  Nelly,"  said  Mrs.  Yorba. 
"We  will  always  stand  in  together." 

The  conversation  flowed  on.  Other  personalities 
were  discussed,  the  difficulty  of  getting  servants  to  stay 
in  the  country,  where  there  was  such  a  dearth  of  "  me 
gentleman  frien',"  the  appearance  of  the  various  gar 
dens,  and  the  atrocious  amount  of  water  they  con 
sumed. 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  the  water- works  on  top  wouldn't 


The  Californians  63 

shut  off  for  eight  months  in  the  year,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Washington.  "Whenever  I  want  something  in  sum 
mer  that  costs  a  pile,  Teddy  groans  and  tells  me  that 
his  water  bill  is  four  hundred  dollars  a  month."  And 
Mrs.  Washington,  whose  elderly  and  doting  husband 
had  never  refused  to  grant  her  most  exorbitant  whim, 
sighed  profoundly. 

Magdale"na  did  not  find  the  conversation  very  inter 
esting,  nor  was  she  called  upon  to  contribute  to  it. 
Nevertheless,  she  received  every  day  with  her  mother 
and  went  with  her  to  return  the  calls.  At  the  end  of 
the  summer  she  loathed  the  small  talk  and  its  art,  but 
felt  that  she  was  improving.  Her  manner  was  cer 
tainly  easier.  She  had  decided  not  to  emulate  Mrs. 
Washington's  vernacular,  but  she  attempted  to  copy 
her  ease  and  graciousness  of  manner.  In  time  she 
learned  to  unbend  a  little,  to  acquire  a  certain  gentle 
dignity  in  place  of  her  natural  haughty  stiffness,  and  to 
utter  the  phrases  that  are  necessary  to  keep  conversa 
tion  going ;  but  her  reticence  never  left  her  for  a  mo 
ment,  her  eyes  looked  beyond  the  people  in  whom  she 
strove  to  be  interested,  and  few  noticed  or  cared 
whether  or  not  she  was  present.  But  at  the  end  of  the 
summer  she  was  full  of  hope  ;  society  might  not  inter 
est  her,  but  the  pride  which  was  her  chief  characteristic 
commanded  that  she  should  hold  a  triumphant  place 
among  her  peers. 

She  had  told  neither  of  her  parents  of  the  books 
Colonel  Belmont  had  given  her,  knowing  that  the  re 
sult  would  be  a  violent  scene  and  an  interdiction.  At 


64  The  Califbrnians 

this  stage  of  her  development  she  had  no  defined  ideas 
of  right  and  wrong.  Upon  such  occasions  as  she  had 
followed  the  dictates  of  her  conscience,  the  conse 
quences  had  been  extremely  unpleasant,  and  in  one 
instance  hideous.  She  was  indolent  and  secretive  by 
nature,  and  she  slipped  along  comfortably  and  did  not 
bother  her  head  with  problems. 


XI 

THE  Yorbas  returned  to  town  on  the  first  of  November. 
It  was  decided  that  Magdatena  should  continue  her 
studies,  but  the  rainy  days  and  winter  evenings  gave 
her  long  hours  for  her  books.  She  found,  to  her  de 
light,  that  her  brain  was  losing  something  of  its  inflexi 
bility  ;  that,  by  reading  slowly,  one  perusal  of  an  ordinary 
book  was  sufficient.  Her  memory  was  still  inferior, 
but  it  was  improving.  Her  mother  had  ceased  to 
overlook  her  choice  of  books,  being  satisfied  that 
Magdal£na  would  never  care  for  trash. 

Magdalena  always  found  the  big  dark  house  oppres 
sive  after  the  months  in  Menlo  Park,  and  went  out  as 
often  as  she  could.  On  fine  days,  attended  by  Julie, 
she  usually  walked  down  to  the  Mercantile  Library, 
and  prowled  among  the  dusty  shelves.  The  old  Mer 
cantile  Library  in  Bush  Street,  almost  in  the  heart  of 
the  business  part  of  the  city,  had  the  most  vener 
able  air  of  any  building  in  California.  There  was, 
indeed,  danger  of  coming  out  covered  with  blue  mould. 


The  Californians  65 

And  it  was  very  dark  and  very  gloomy.  It  has  always 
been  suspected  that  it  was  a  favourite  resort  for  sui 
cides,  but  this,  happily,  has  never  been  proved. 

But  Magdale"na  loved  it,  for  it  held  many  thousand 
volumes,  and  they  were  all  at  her  disposal.  Her  mem 
bership  was  worth  more  to  her  than  all  her  father's 
riches.  Julie,  who  hated  the  library,  always  carried  a 
chair  at  once  to  the  register  and  closed  her  eyes,  that 
she  might  not  be  depressed  to  tears  by  the  gloom  and 
the  walls  of  books,  which  were  bound  as  became  all 
that  was  left  of  the  dead. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  visits  that  Magdale"na 
approached  another  crisis  of  her  inner  life.  She  was 
wandering  about  aimlessly,  hardly  knowing  what  she 
wanted,  when  her  eye  was  caught  by  the  title  of  a  book 
on  an  upper  shelf :  "  Conflict  between  Religion  and 
Science."  She  knew  nothing  about  science,  but  she 
wondered  in  what  manner  religion  could  conflict  with 
anything.  She  took  the  book  down  and  read  the  first 
few  lines,  then  the  page,  then  the  chapter,  still  stand 
ing.  When  she  had  finished  she  made  as  if  to  replace 
the  book,  then  put  it  resolutely  under  her  arm,  called 
Julie,  and  went  home. 

She  read  during  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon,  and 
as  far  into  the  night  as  she  dared.  Before  she  went  to 
bed  she  said  her  prayers  more  fervently  than  ever,  and 
the  next  morning  considered  deeply  whether  or  not 
she  should  return  the  book  half  read.  She  finally  con 
cluded  to  finish  it.  Her  intellect  was  voracious,  and 
she  had  no  other  companion  but  her  religion.  More- 

5 


66  The  Californians 

over,  if  she  was  to  aspire  to  a  position  in  the  world  of 
letters,  she  must  equip  her  mind  with  the  best  that  had 
gone  before.  She  had  every  faith  in  the  power  of  the 
Catholic  religion  to  hold  its  own ;  her  hesitation  had 
been  induced,  not  by  fear  of  disturbing  her  faith,  but 
because  she  doubted,  pricked  by  the  bigotry  in  her 
veins,  if  it  was  loyal  to  recognise  the  existence  of  the 
enemy. 

However,  she  finished  the  book.  On  the  following 
Saturday  morning  she  went  down  to  the  library  and 
asked  the  librarian,  who  took  some  interest  in  her, 
what  he  would  advise  her  to  read  in  the  way  of  sci 
ence  ;  she  had  lost  all  taste  for  anything  else. 

"  Well,  Darwin  is  about  the  best  to  begin  on,  I 
should  say,"  he  replied.  "  He  's  easy  reading  on  ac 
count  of  his  style.  And  then  I  should  advise  you  to 
read  Fiske's  '  Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy '  before 
you  tackle  Herbert  Spencer  or  Huxley  or  Tyndall." 

Magdatena  took  home  Darwin's  "  Origin  of  Species  " 
and  "  Descent  of  Man."  They  so  fascinated  her  that 
not  until  their  contents  had  become  a  permanent  part 
of  her  mental  furnishing  did  she  realise  their  warfare 
on  revealed  religion.  But  by  this  time  science  had 
her  in  its  mighty  grip. 

She  read  all  that  the  librarian  had  recommended, 
and  much  more.  It  was  some  six  months  later  that 
she  fully  realised  that  her  faith  was  gone.  There  came 
a  time  when  her  simple  appeals  to  the  Virgin  stuck  in 
her  throat ;  when  she  realised  that  her  beloved  masters, 
if  they  could  have  seen  her  telling  a  rosary  at  the  foot 
of  her  altar,  would  have  thought  her  a  fool. 


The   Californians  67 

There  was  no  struggle,  for  the  work  was  done,  and 
finally.  But  her  grief  was  deep  and  bitter.  Religion 
had  been  a  strong  inherited  instinct,  and  it  had  been 
three  fourths  of  her  existence  for  nearly  eighteen  years. 
She  felt  as  if  the  very  roots  of  her  spirit  had  been  torn 
up  and  lay  wilting  and  shrivelling  in  the  cold  light  of 
her  reason.  She  was  terrified  at  her  new  position. 
How  was  she,  a  mere  girl,  to  think  for  herself,  to  make 
her  way  through  life,  which  every  great  writer  told  her 
was  a  complex  and  crucifying  ordeal,  with  no  guide  but 
her  own  poor  reason? 

For  the  first  time  she  felt  her  isolation.  She  had  no 
one  to  go  to  for  sympathy,  no  one  to  advise  her.  Of 
all  she  knew,  her  parents  were  the  last  she  could  have 
approached  on  any  subject  involving  the  surrender  of 
her  reticence. 

She  lost  interest  in  her  books,  and  brooded,  her 
mind  struggling  toward  will-o'-the-wisps  in  a  fog-bank, 
until  she  could  endure  her  solitary  position  no  longer ; 
she  felt  that  she  must  speak  to  some  one  or  her  brain 
would  fall  to  ashes.  Her  aunt  was  still  in  Santa  Bar 
bara,  and  showed  no  disposition  to  return.  A  priest 
was  out  of  the  question.  There  was  no  one  but  Colonel 
Belmont.  Magdale"na  knew  nothing  of  his  private  life  : 
not  a  whisper  had  reached  her  secluded  ears ;  but  she 
doubted  if  religion  were  his  strong  point.  But  he  had 
always  been  kind,  and  she  knew  him  to  be  clever.  It 
took  her  a  week  to  make  up  her  mind  to  speak  to  him 
and  to  decide  what  to  say;  but  when  her  decision 
was  finally  reached,  she  walked  through  the  connect- 


68  The  Californians 

ing  gardens  one  evening  with  firm  tread  and  set 
lips. 

She  entered  the  house  by  a  side  door  and  went  to 
the  library,  where  she  knew  Colonel  Belmont  smoked 
his  after-dinner  cigar  when  at  home.  A  cordial  voice 
answered  her  knock.  When  she  entered  he  rose  and 
came  forward  with  the  graceful  hospitality  which  never 
failed  him  in  the  moments  of  his  liveliest  possession, 
and  with  the  acute  interest  which  anything  feminine 
and  young  never  failed  to  inspire. 

"  Well,  honey  !  "  he  exclaimed,  kissing  her  warmly 
and  handing  her  to  a  chair;  "you  might  have  done 
this  before.  I  'm  such  a  lonely  childless  old  widower." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Magdale"na,  with  contrition ;  "  I  never 
thought  you  'd  care  to  see  me."  She  could  not  know 
that  he  seldom  permitted  himself  to  be  alone. 

"  Well,  now  you  know  it,  you  '11  come  oftener,  won't 
you?  Have  you  heard  from  my  baby  lately?  I  had 
a  letter  a  yard  long  this  morning.  She  can  write  !  " 

"  I  had  one  too."  She  hesitated  a  moment,  then 
determined  to  speak  at  once.  She  could  not  hold  this 
nor  any  man's  attention  in  ordinary  conversation,  and 
she  wanted  to  finish  before  she  wearied  him. 

"Uncle  Jack,"  she  said,  "I've  come  to  see  you 
about  something  in  particular.  I  know  so  few  people, 
or  I  would  n't  bore  you  —  " 

"  Don't  you  talk  about  boring  me,  honey,  —  you  ! 
Why,  your  old  Uncle  Jack  would  do  anything  for 
you." 

A  light  sprang  into  Magdalena's  eyes.     Colonel  Bel- 


The  Californians  69 

mont  forgot  for  the  moment  that  she  was  not  beautiful, 
and  warmed  to  interest  at  once.  Few  people  had  ever 
withstood  Jack  Belmont's  magnetism,  and  Magdalena 
found  it  easy  to  speak. 

"  It  is  this,"  she  said.  "  I  have  been  reading  books 
lately  that  have  taken  my  religion  from  me ;  it  has 
gone  utterly.  I  want  to  ask  you  what  I  shall  do,  —  if 
there  is  anything  to  take  its  place.  I  —  I  —  feel  as 
if  I  could  not  get  along  without  something." 

Colonel  Belmont  made  a  faint  exclamation  and 
wheeled  about,  staring  at  the  fire.  His  first  impulse 
was  to  laugh,  so  ludicrous  was  the  idea  that  anyone 
should  come  to  him  for  spiritual  advice ;  his  second 
to  get  out  of  the  room.  He  did  neither,  however, 
and  ordered  his  intelligence  to  work. 

He  did  not  speak  for  some  time ;  and  Magdalena, 
for  the  first  moment,  watched  him  intently,  scarcely 
breathing.  Then  her  attention  wandered  from  herself, 
and  she  studied  his  profile.  She  noted  for  the  first 
time  how  worn  it  was,  the  bags  under  the  injected 
eyes,  the  heavy  lines  about  the  mouth.  She  had  no 
name  for  what  she  saw  written  in  that  face,  but  she 
suddenly  felt  herself  in  the  presence  of  one  of  life's 
mysteries.  Of  man's  life  she  knew  nothing  —  noth 
ing.  What  did  this  man  do  when  he  was  not  at  home  ? 
Who  were  his  friends  besides  her  morose  father,  her 
cold  dry  uncle?  She  felt  Belmont's  difference  from 
both,  and  could  not  know  that  they  had  much  in  com 
mon.  What  circumstances  had  imprinted  that  face  so 
differently  from  the  few  faces  familiar  to  her?  For  the 


jo  The  Californians 

first  time  man  in  the  concrete  interested  her.  She  sud 
denly  realised  how  profound  was  her  ignorance,  de 
spite  the  lore  she  had  gathered  from  books,  —  realised 
dimly  but  surely  that  there  was  a  vast  region  called 
life  for  her  yet  to  explore,  and  that  what  bloomed  for 
a  little  on  its  surface  was  called  human  nature.  She 
gave  an  involuntary  shiver  and  sank  back  in  her  chair. 
At  the  same  moment  Colonel  Belmont  looked  round. 

"Someone  walking  over  your  grave?"  he  asked, 
smiling.  "What  you  asked  came  on  me  right  sud 
denly,  'Lena.  I  couldn't  answer  it  all  in  a  minute. 
You  didn't  say  much — you  never  do;  so  I  under 
stand  how  you  've  been  taking  this  thing  to  heart. 
I  'm  sorry  you  've  lost  your  religion,  for  it  stands  a 
woman  in  mighty  well.  They  have  the  worst  of  it  in 
this  life."  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  his  wife.  His 
face  was  very  sober.  "  But  if  you  have  lost  it,  that  is 
the  end  of  the  chapter  as  far  as  you  are  concerned. 
All  I  can  think  of  is  this  —  "  the  words  nearly  choked 
him,  but  he  went  on  heroically  :  "  Do  what  you  think 
is  right  in  little  matters  as  well  as  in  great.  You  've 
been  properly  brought  up ;  you  know  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong ;  and  all  your  instincts  are 
naturally  good,  if  I  know  anything  about  women.  As 
you  grow  older,  you  will  see  your  way  more  clearly. 
You  won't  have  the  temptations  that  many  women 
have,  so  that  it  will  be  easier  for  you  than  for  some 
of  the  poor  little  devils.  And  you  '11  never  be  poor. 
You  '11  find  it  easier  than  most  — and  I  'm  glad  of  it !  " 
he  added  with  a  burst  of  warm  sympathy.  Emotional 


The  Californians  71 

by  nature,  the  unaccustomed  experience  had  brought 
him  to  the  verge  of  tears ;  and  Magdalena,  forlorn  and 
lonely,  but  thanking  him  mutely  with  her  eloquent  eyes, 
appealed  to  the  great  measure  of  chivalry  in  him. 

"  I  am  glad  I  spoke  to  you,  Uncle  Jack,"  she  said 
after  a  moment.  "  You  have  given  me  much  to  think 
about,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  get  along  much  better. 
Thanks,  ever  so  much." 

She  did  not  rise  to  go,  but  was  silent  for  several 
moments.  Then  she  asked  abruptly,  — 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  women  having  temptations  ? 
I  know  by  the  way  you  said  it  that  you  don't  mean 
just  ordinary  every-day  temptations." 

Colonel  Belmont  glanced  about  helplessly.  His  elo 
quence  had  carried  him  away ;  he  had  not  paused  to 
take  feminine  curiosity  into  account.  He  encountered 
Magdale"na's  eyes.  They  were  fixed  on  him  with 
solemn  inquiry,  and  they  were  very  intelligent  eyes. 
Did  he  take  refuge  in  verbiage,  she  would  not  be 
deceived.  Did  he  refuse  to  continue  the  conversation, 
she  would  be  hurt.  In  either  case  her  imagination 
would  have  been  set  at  work,  and  she  might  go  far,  and 
in  the  wrong  direction,  to  satisfy  her  curiosity.  Once 
more  he  stared  at  the  fire. 

To  his  daughter  he  could  have  said  nothing  on  such 
a  subject :  he  was  too  old-fashioned,  too  imbued  with 
the  chivalrous  idea  of  the  South  of  his  generation  that 
women  were  of  two  kinds  only,  and  that  those  who 
had  been  segregated  for  men  to  love  and  worship 
and  marry  must  never  brush  the  skirts  of  their  thought 


72  The  Californians 

against  the  sin  of  the  world.  They  were  ideal  creatures 
who  would  produce  others  like  themselves,  and  men  — 
like  himself. 

But,  as  he  considered,  he  realized  that  he  had  a  duty 
toward  Magdale"na,  which  grew  as  he  thought :  she 
needed  help  and  advice  and  had  come  to  him,  having 
literally  no  one  else  to  go  to.  After  all,  might  she  not 
have  temptations  which  would  pass  his  beautiful  quick 
witted  triumphant  daughter  by?  Helena,  with  the 
world  at  her  feet,  would  have  little  time  for  brooding, 
little  time  for  anything  but  the  lighter  pleasures  of  life 
under  his  watchful  eye,  until  she  loved  and  passed  to 
the  keeping  of  a  man  who,  he  hoped,  would  be  far 
stronger  and  finer  than  himself.  But  Magdale"na? 
Repressed,  unloved,  intellectual,  disappointed  at  every 
turn,  passionate  undoubtedly,  — there  was  no  knowing 
to  what  sudden  extremes  desperation  might  drive  her. 
And  the  woman,  no  matter  how  plain,  had  yet  to  be 
born  who  could  not  be  utterly  bad  if  she  put  her  mind 
to  it.  It  was  not  only  his  duty  to  warn  Magdalena, 
but  to  give  her  such  advice  as  no  mortal  had  ever 
heard  from  his  lips  before,  nor  ever  would  hear  again. 

He  drew  a  long  breath  and  wheeled  about.  Mag- 
da!6na  was  leaning  forward,  staring  at  him  intently. 
There  was  no  self-consciousness  in  her  face,  and  he 
realised  in  a  flash  that  he  would  merely  talk  into  a 
brain.  Her  woman's  nature  would  not  be  awakened 
by  the  homily  of  an  elderly  man.  The  task  became 
suddenly  light. 

"  Well,  it 's  just  this  :  There  's  no  moral  law  govern- 


The  Californians  73 

ing  the  animal  kingdom ;  but  men  and  women  were 
allowed  to  develop  into  speaking,  reasoning,  generally 
intelligent  beings  for  one  purpose  only :  to  make  the 
world  better,  not  worse.  Their  reasoning  faculty  may 
or  may  not  be  a  spark  of  the  divine  force  behind  the 
universe ;  but  there  's  no  doubt  about  the  fact,  not  the 
least,  that  every  intelligent  being  knows  that  he  ought 
to  be  at  least  two  thirds  good,  and  in  his  better  mo 
ments  —  which  come  to  the  worst  —  he  has  a  desire 
to  be  wholly  good,  or  at  least  better  than  he  has  ever 
been.  In  other  words,  the  best  of  men  strive  more 
or  less  constantly  toward  an  ideal  (and  the  second- 
best  strive  sometimes)  which,  if  realised,  would  make 
this  world  a  very  different  place.  I  believe  myself 
that  it  is  this  instinct  alone  which  is  responsible  for 
religions,  —  a  desire  for  a  concrete  form  of  goodness  to 
which  man  can  cling  when  his  own  little  atom  is  over 
whelmed  by  the  great  measure  of  weakness  in  him. 
Do  you  follow  me  ?  " 

Magdale"na  nodded,  but  she  did  not  look  satisfied. 

"Well,  this  is  the  point :  The  world  might  be  prosaic 
without  sin,  but  it  is  right  positive  that  women  would 
suffer  less.  And  if  it  could  be  pounded  into  every 
woman's  head  that  she  was  a  fool  to  think  twice  about 
any  man  she  could  not  marry,  and  that  she  threatened 
the  whole  social  structure  every  time  she  brought  a 
fatherless  child  into  the  world  ;  that  she  made  possible 
such  creatures  as  you  saw  in  Dupont  Street,  and  a  long 
and  still  more  hideous  sequelae,  every  time  she  delib 
erately  violated  her  own  instinct  for  good,  —  we  'd  aU 


74  The  Californians 

begin  to  develop  into  what  the  Almighty  intended  us  to 
be  when  He  started  us  off  on  our  long  march.  Don't 
misunderstand  me  !  Even  if  I  were  not  such  a  sinner 
myself,  I  'd  be  deuced  charitable  where  love  was  con 
cerned,  marriage  or  no  marriage  —  O  Lord  !  I 
did  n't  mean  to  say  that.  Forget  it  until  you  're  thirty ; 
then  remember  it  if  you  like,  for  your  brain  is  a  good 
one.  Look,  promise  me  something,  'Le'na ;  "  he  leaned 
forward  eagerly  and  took  her  hand.  "  Promise  me, 
swear  it,  that  until  you  are  thirty  you  '11  never  do  any 
thing  your  instincts  and  your  intelligence  don't  assure 
you  is  right,  —  really  right  without  any  sophistry.  Of 
course  I  mean  in  regard  to  men.  I  don't  want  you 
to  make  yourself  into  a  prig  —  but  I  am  sure  you 
understand." 

"  I  think  I  do,"  said  Magdatena.  "  I  promise." 
"  Thank  goodness,  for  you  '11  never  break  your  word. 
You  may  be  tempted  more  than  once  to  kick  the 
whole  stupid  game  of  life  to  the  deuce  and  go  out  on 
a  bat  like  a  man,  but  console  yourself  with  this  :  you  'd 
be  a  long  sight  worse  off  when  you  got  through  than 
when  you  started,  and  you  'd  either  go  to  smash 
altogether  or  spend  the  rest  of  your  life  trying  to  get 
back  where  you  were  before ;  and  sackcloth  hurts. 
There  is  n't  one  bit  of  joy  to  be  got  out  of  it.  If  you 
can't  get  the  very  best  in  this  world,  take  nothing. 
That 's  the  only  religion  for  a  woman  to  cling  to,  and 
if  she  does  cling  to  it  she  can  do  without  any  other." 

Magdatena  rose.     "  Good-night,"  she   said.     "  I  '11 
never  forget  a  word  of  it,  and  I  'm  very  much  obliged." 


The  Californians  75 

She  kissed  him  and  had  half  crossed  the  room  before 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  went  hastily  forward  to  open 
the  door.  He  went  to  her  father's  house  with  her, 
then  returned  to  his  library  fire.  To  the  surprise  of 
his  servants,  he  spent  the  evening  quietly  at  home. 


XII 

A  YEAR  from  the  following  June,  and  two  days  after 
her  arrival  in  Menlo,  Magdatena  went  into  the  middle 
woods.  The  great  oaks  were  dusty  already,  their 
brilliant  greens  were  dimming ;  but  the  depths  of  the 
woods  were  full  of  the  warm  shimmer  of  summer,  of 
the  mysterious  noises  produced  by  creatures  never 
seen,  by  the  very  heat  itself,  perchance  by  the  riotous 
sap  in  the  young  trees  which  had  sprung  to  life  from 
the  roots  of  their  mighty  parents. 

Magdal£na  left  the  driveway  and  pushed  in  among 
the  brush.  Poison  oak  did  not  affect  her;  and  she 
separated  the  beautiful  creeper  fearlessly  until  she 
reached  a  spot  where  she  was  as  sure  of  being  alone 
and  unseen  as  if  she  had  entered  the  bowels  of  the 
earth.  She  sat  down  on  the  warm  dry  ground  and 
looked  about  her  for  a  moment,  glad  in  the  sense  of 
absolute  freedom-  Above  the  fragrant  brush  of  many 
greens  rose  the  old  twisted  oaks,  a  light  breeze  rust 
ling  their  brittle  leaves,  their  arms  lifted  eagerly  to  the 
warm  yellow  bath  from  above.  Near  her  was  a  high 
pile  of  branches  and  leaves,  the  home  of  a  wood-rat. 


76  The  Californians 

No  sound  came  from  it,  and  mortal  had  nothing  to  fear 
from  him.  A  few  birds  moved  among  the  leaves,  but 
the  heat  made  them  lazy,  and  they  did  not  sing. 

After  a  few  moments,  Magdalena's  glance  swept  the 
wall  of  leaves  that  surrounded  her;  then  she  took  a 
pencil  and  a  roll  of  foolscap  from  her  pocket.  She  had 
made  up  her  mind  that  the  time  had  come  for  her  first 
essay  in  fiction.  For  two  years  and  a  half  she  had 
studied  and  thought  to  this  end ;  too  reverent  to  criti 
cise,  but  taking  the  creators'  structures  to  pieces  as 
best  she  could  and  giving  all  attention  to  parts  and 
details. 

She  had  had  a  nebulous  idea  in  her  mind  for  some 
time.  It  had  troubled  her  that  it  did  not  assume 
definite  form,  but  she  trusted  to  that  inspiration  of 
the  pen  of  which  she  had  read  much. 

Her  hand  trembled  so  that  she  could  not  write  for  a 
few  moments.  She  put  the  pencil  down,  not  covering 
her  face  with  her  hands  as  a  more  demonstrative  girl 
would  have  done,  but  biting  her  lips.  Her  heart  beat 
suffocatingly.  For  the  first  time  she  fully  realised  what 
the  power  to  write  would  mean  to  her.  Her  religion 
had  gone,  that  dear  companion  of  many  years ;  she 
had  practised  faithfully  until  six  months  ago,  when  she 
had  asked  her  teacher  to  tell  her  father  that  she  could 
never  become  even  a  third-rate  musician ;  and  Don 
Roberto  had,  after  a  caustic  hour,  concluded  that  he 
would  "  throw  no  more  good  money  after  bad  ;  "  she 
had  had  long  and  meaning  conferences  with  her  mirror, 
conjuring  up  phantasms  of  the  beautiful  dead  women 


The  Californians  77 

of  her  race,  and  decided  sadly  that  the  worship  of  man 
was  not  for  her.  She  had  never  talked  for  ten  con 
secutive  minutes  with  a  young  man ;  but  she  had  a 
woman's  instincts,  she  had  read,  she  had  listened  to 
the  tales  of  her  aunt,  and  she  knew  that  what  man 
most  valued  in  woman  she  did  not  possess.  Her  great 
position  and  the  graces  she  hoped  to  cultivate  might 
gratify  her  ambitions  in  a  measure,  but  they  would  not 
companion  her  soul.  Books  were  left ;  but  books  are 
too  heterogeneous  an  interest  to  furnish  a  vital  one 
in  life,  a  reason  for  being  alive.  She  had  read  of  the 
jealous  absorption  of  art,  of  the  intense  exclusive  love 
with  which  it  inspired  its  votaries.  She  had  read  of 
the  joys  of  creation,  and  her  whole  being  had  re 
sponded  ;  she  felt  that  did  her  brain  obey  her  will  and 
shape  itself  to  achievement,  she  too  would  know  ecstasy 
and  ask  nothing  more  of  life. 

Her  nerves  settled,  and  she  began  to  write.  Her 
reading  had  been  confined  to  the  classics  of  the  old 
world :  not  only  had  she  not  read  a  modern  novel, 
but  of  the  regnant  lights  of  her  own  country,  Mr. 
Howells  and  Mr.  James,  she  had  never  heard.  She 
may  have  seen  their  names  in  the  "  Literary  Bulletin  " 
her  bookseller  sent  her,  but  had  probably  gathered  that 
they  were  biologists.  There  was  no  one  to  tell  her  that 
the  actors  and  happenings  within  her  horizon  were  the 
proper  substance  for  her  creative  faculty.  California 
had  whispered  to  her,  but  she  had  not  understood. 
Her  intention  was  to  write  a  story  of  England  in  the 
reigns  of  Oliver  Cromwell  and  Charles  the  Second. 


7  8  The  Californians 

The  romance  of  England  appealed  to  her  irresistibly. 
The  mass  of  virgin  ore  which  lay  at  her  hand  did  not 
provoke  a  flash  of  magnetism  from  her  brain. 

She  wrote  very  slowly.  An  hour  passed,  and  she  had 
only  covered  a  page.  Her  head  ached  a  little  from 
the  intense  concentration  of  mind.  Her  fingers  were 
stiff.  Finally,  she  laid  her  pencil  aside  and  read  what 
she  had  written.  It  was  a  laboured  introduction  to  the 
story,  an  attempt  to  give  a  picture  of  the  times.  She 
was  only  nineteen  and  a  novice,  but  she  knew  that  what 
she  had  written  was  rubbish.  It  was  a  trite  synopsis  of 
what  she  had  read,  of  what  everybody  knew;  and 
the  English,  although  correct,  was  commonplace,  the 
vocabulary  cheap.  She  set  her  lips,  tore  it  up,  and 
began  again.  At  the  end  of  another  hour  she 
destroyed  the  second  result. 

Then  she  determined  to  skip  the  prologue  for  the 
present  and  begin  the  story.  For  many  long  moments 
she  sat  staring  into  the  brush,  her  brain  plodding 
toward  an  opening  scene,  an  opening  sentence.  At 
last  she  began  to  write.  She  described  the  hero.  He 
was  walking  down  the  great  staircase  of  a  baronial  hall, 
—  in  which  he  had  lain  concealed,  —  and  the  company 
below  were  struck  dumb  with  terror  and  amazement  at 
the  apparition.  She  got  him  to  the  middle  of  the 
stair;  she  described  his  costume  with  fidelity;  she 
wrote  of  the  temper  of  the  people  in  the  great  hall. 
Then  she  dropped  the  pencil.  What  was  to  happen 
thereafter  was  a  blank. 

She  read  what  she  had  written.     It  was  lifeless.     It 


The  Californians  79 

was  not  fiction.       The  least  of  Helena's    letters  was 
more  virile  and  objective  than  this. 

Again  that  mysterious  indefinable  presentiment  as 
sailed  her.  It  was  the  first  time  that  it  had  come  since 
that  night  she  had  stood  on  the  balcony  and  opened 
her  brain  to  literary  desire.  Had  that  presentiment 
meant  anything  since  compassed?  Her  father's  cruel 
treatment?  Her  terrible  experience  in  the  street  of 
painted  women?  Her  illness?  The  loss  of  her  re 
ligion?  It  was  none  of  these  things.  So  far,  it  had 
not  been  fulfilled ;  and  it  had  struck  its  warning  note 
again.  She  shivered,  then  discovered  that  the  yellow 
light  was  no  longer  about  her,  and  that  her  head 
ached.  She  rose  stiffly  and  put  the  torn  scraps  of 
paper  into  her  pocket.  As  she  left,  she  cast  a  curious 
glance  about  her  retreat,  not  knowing  what  prompted 
it.  The  scent  of  newly  upturned  earth  came  to  her 
nostrils ;  a  bird  flew  down  on  the  rat's  nest,  starting 
along  the  sides  a  shower  of  loose  earth;  the  frogs 
were  chanting  hoarsely. 


XIII 

THE  next  morning  the  natural  buoyancy  of  youth 
asserted  itself;  she  reasoned  that  a  long  hard  appren 
ticeship  had  been  the  lot  of  many  authors,  and  deter 
mined  that  she  would  write  a  page  a  day  for  years,  if 
need  be,  until  her  tardy  faculty  had  been  coaxed 
from  its  hard  soil  and  trained  to  use. 


8o  The  Californians 

She  could  not  go  to  the  woods  that  day :  her  mother 
expected  callers. 

"Your  birthday  is  a  week  from  Wednesday,"  Mrs. 
Yorba  said  as  they  sat  on  the  verandah.  "  Your  father 
and  I  have  decided  to  give  a  dinner.  You  will  not 
come  out  formally,  of  course,  until  winter ;  but  a  little 
society  during  the  summer  will  take  off  the  stiff 
ness." 

Magdatena  turned  cold.  "  But,  mamma  !  I  cannot 
talk  to  young  men." 

"You  expect  to  begin  sometime,  do  you  not?  I 
shall  also  take  you  to  any  little  entertainment  that  is 
given  in  Menlo  this  summer ;  and  as  the  Brannans  and 
Montgomerys  are  back  from  Europe,  —  they  arrived 
last  Thursday,  —  there  may  be  several.  The  older  girls 
gave  little  parties  before  they  married ;  but  there  have 
not  been  any  grown  girls  in  Menlo  for  some  years  now. 
Rose  Geary  and  Caro  Folsom,  who  spent  last  summer 
in  the  East,  will  spend  this  in  Menlo,  so  that  there  will 
be  five  of  you,  besides  Nelly  Washington." 

Magdale"na  knew  that  the  matter  was  settled.  She 
had  given  a  good  deal  of  imagination  to  the  time  when 
she  should  be  a  young  lady,  but  the  immediate  pros 
pect  filled  her  with  dismay.  Then,  out  of  the  knowl 
edge  that  her  lines  had  been  chosen  for  her,  she 
adapted  herself,  as  mortals  do,  and  experienced  some 
of  the  pleasures  of  anticipation. 

"  I  believe  I  did  not  tell  you,"  her  mother  resumed, 
"  that  I  wrote  to  Helena  some  time  ago  asking  her  to 
bring  back  four  dresses  for  you,  —  a  ball  dress  for  your 


The  Californians  81 

d£but,  an  English  walking  suit,  a  calling  dress,  and  a 
dinner  dress." 

Magdale"na  had  never  given  a  thought  to  dress ;  but 
this  sudden  announcement  that  she  was  to  have  four 
gowns  from  Paris  and  London  pricked  her  with  an  in 
timation  that  the  interests  of  life  were  more  varied  than 
she  had  suspected.  She  wondered  vividly  what  they 
would  be  like,  and  recalled  several  of  Nelly  Washing 
ton's  notable  gowns. 

"  You  are  to  have  forty  dollars  a  month  after  your 
birthday,  and  your  father  will  permit  me  to  get  you 
three  dresses  a  year ;  everything  else  must  come  out  of 
your  allowance.  You  will  keep  an  account-book  and 
show  it  to  your  father  every  month,  as  I  do.  Oh  — 
and  there  is  another  thing  :  a  Mr.  Trennahan  of  New 
York  has  brought  letters  to  your  father.  He  is  a  man 
of  some  importance,  —  is  wealthy  and  has  been  Secre 
tary  of  Legation  twice,  and  comes  of  a  distinguished 
family ;  we  must  do  something  for  him,  and  have 
decided  to  ask  him  down  to  your  dinner.  That  will 
kill  two  birds  with  one  stone.  He  can  also  stay 
a  day  or  two,  and  we  will  show  him  the  different 
places." 

"  A  strange  man  in  the  house  for  two  days,"  gasped 
Magdalena,  forgetting  that  she  was  to  have  forty  dollars 
a  month. 

"  He  can  take  care  of  himself  most  of  the  time. 
Here  come  Nelly." 

Mrs.  Washington's  ponies  were  rounding  the  deer 
park.  Magdalena  craned  her  neck. 

6 


82  The  Californians 

"She  has  some  one  with  her,"  she  said,  And  in 
another  half-moment :  "  Tiny  Montgomery  and  Ila 
Brannan." 

Magdatena  clasped  her  hands  tightly  to  keep  them 
from  trembling.  What  would  they  think  of  her?  She 
saw  that  they  were  smartly  dressed.  Doubtless  they 
were  very  grand  and  clever  indeed,  and  would  think 
her  more  trying  than  ever.  But  although  all  her  shy 
ness  threatened  for  a  moment,  it  was  summarily  routed 
by  her  Spanish  pride. 

She  rose  as  the  phaeton  drew  up,  and  went  to  the 
head  of  the  steps,  smiling.  They  might  find  her  un 
interesting,  but  not  gattchf. 

The  girls  came  gracefully  forward  and  kissed  her 
warmly. 

"Dear  'Le'na,"  said  Miss  Montgomery.  "We 
would  n't  wait :  we  wanted  so  much  to  see  you  again. 
And  besides,  you  know,"  with  a  mischievous  smile, 
"  we  owe  you  a  great  many  luncheon  calls." 

Miss  Brannan  exclaimed  almost  simultaneously, 
"  How  you  have  improved,  'Le'na  !  I  should  never 
have  known  you."  And  if  her  tone  was  conventional, 
it  fell  upon  ears  untuned  to  conventions. 

It  was  Magdaldna's  first  compliment,  and  she  thrilled 
with  pleasure.  "  My  face  looks  very  much  the  same 
in  the  glass,"  she  said.  "  But  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
back.  Let  us  sit  on  this  side." 

She  led  the  girls  a  little  distance  down  the  verandah ; 
she  was  trembling  inwardly,  but  felt  that  she  should  get 
along  better  if  relieved  of  her  mother's  ear.  Tiny 


The  Californians  83 

began  at  once  to  talk  of  her  delight  in  being  home 
again,  and  Magdatena  had  time  to  recover  herself. 

Tiny  Montgomery  was  an  exquisitely  pretty  little 
creature,  very  small  but  admirably  proportioned,  al 
though  thin.  Her  brown  eyes  were  very  sweet  under 
well-pencilled  brows,  her  nose  aquiline  and  fine.  The 
mouth  was  barely  rubbed  in,  but  the  teeth  were  beauti 
ful,  the  smile  as  sweet  as  the  eyes.  She  had  the  small 
est,  feet  and  hands  in  California,  and  to-day  they  were 
clad  in  white  suede  with  no  detriment  to  their  fame. 
She  wore  a  frock  of  white  embroidered  nainsook  and 
a  leghorn  covered  with  white  feathers.  She  talked 
rather  slowly,  in  language  carefully  chosen,  although 
plentifully  laden  with  superlatives.  Her  voice  was 
very  sweet,  and  highly  cultivated. 

Ila  Brannan  was  taller,  with  a  slender  full  figure,  and 
very  smart.  She  wore  a  closely  fitting  frock  of  tan- 
coloured  cloth,  a  small  toque,  and  a  veil  covered  with 
large  velvet  dots.  She  was  very  olive,  and  her  cheeks 
were  deeply  coloured.  Her  black  eyes  had  a  slanting 
expression.  Young  as  she  was,  there  was  a  vague  sug 
gestion  of  maturity  about  her.  She  smiled  pleasantly 
and  echoed  Tiny's  little  enthusiasms,  which  had  an  air 
of  elaborate  rehearsal,  but  she  seemed  to  have  brought 
something  of  Paris  with  her,  and  to  adapt  herself  but 
ill  to  her  old  surroundings.  Magdale"na  did  not  feel  at 
ease  with  either  of  them,  but  concluded  that  she  liked 
Tiny  the  better  of  the  two. 

"Tell  me  something  of  Helena,"  she  said  finally. 
"  Of  course  you  saw  her  in  Paris." 


84  The  Californians 

"Oh,  constantly,"  replied  Tiny.  "She's  perfectly 
beautiful,  'L£na,  perfectly.  Mamma  took  her  with  us  one 
night  to  the  opera,  and  so  many  people  asked  her  who 
the  beautiful  American  was.  She  has  grown  quite  tall, 
and  is  wonderfully  stylish.  Colonel  Belmont  has  simply 
showered  money  on  her  since  he  went  over,  and  she 
will  have  beautiful  clothes,  and  cut  us  all  out  when  she 
comes  back."  But  Tiny  did  not  look  in  the  least  dis 
turbed,  and  peeped  surreptitiously  into  the  polished 
glass  of  the  window. 

"  She  '11  have  all  the  men  wild  about  her,"  announced 
Ila ;  she  spoke  with  a  slight  French  accent,  which  was 
not  affected,  as  she  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the 
last  five  years  in  Paris.  "  And  she  is  going  to  be  a 
very  dashing  belle.  She  informed  me  that  she  shall 
run  to  fires  and  do  whatever  she  chooses,  and  make 
people  like  it  whether  they  want  to  or  not.  But  I 
doubt  if  she  will  ever  be  fast." 

"  Fast !  "  echoed  Magdale"na,  a  street  of  painted 
women  flashing  into  memory;  she  knew  of  no  de 
grees.  "  Helena !  How  can  you  think  of  such  a 
thing  in  connection  with  her?" 

Ila  laughed  softly.     "  You  baby  !  "  she  said. 

Tiny  frowned.  "You  know,  Ila,"  she  said  coldly, 
"  that  I  do  not  like  to  talk  of  such  things." 

"  Well,  you  need  not,"  said  Ila,  coolly. 

Tiny  lifted  her  brows.  "  I  think  you  know  you 
cannot  talk  to  me  of  what  I  do  not  wish  to  hear," 
she  said  with  great  dignity. 

Magdalena  turned  to  her,  the  warm  light  of  approval 


The  Californians  85 

in  her  eyes ;  and  Ila,  unabashed,  rose  and  said,  "  I 
think  I  '11  go  over  and  talk  scandal  for  awhile,"  and 
joined  the  older  women,  whose  numbers  had  been 
reinforced. 

Magdatena  longed  to  ask  Tiny  if  she  really  had 
improved,  but  was  too  shy.  Tiny  said  almost 
directly,  — 

"  You  look  so  intellectual,  'Le"na.  Are  you  ?  I  feel 
quite  afraid." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  replied  Magdale"na,  hastily,  "  I  really 
know  very  little ;  I  wish  I  knew  more."  She  hesitated 
a  moment ;  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  expand  even  to 
the  playmate  of  her  childhood,  but  an  alluring  pros 
pect  had  suddenly  opened.  "  Of  course  you  will  have 
a  great  deal  of  leisure  this  summer,"  she  added. 
"Shall  we  read  together?" 

Tiny  rose  with  a  sweet  but  rather  forced  smile.  "  I 
am  not  going  to  let  you  see  how  ignorant  I  am,"  she 
said.  "  But  I  feel  very  rude :  I  should  go  over  and 
talk  to  Mrs.  Yorba." 

When  they  had  gone,  Magdatena  sat  for  a  time 
staring  straight  before  her,  unheeding  her  mother's 
comments.  The  snub  had  been  prettily  administered, 
but  it  had  cut  deep  into  her  sensitiveness.  She  real 
ised  that  she  was  quite  unlike  these  other  girls  of  her 
own  age,  had  never  been  like  them ;  it  was  not  Europe 
that  had  made  the  difference.  "  I  would  not  care," 
she  thought,  "  if  they  would  keep  away  from  me  al 
together.  I  have  what  I  care  much  more  for.  But  I 
must  see  them  nearly  every  day  and  try  to  interest 


86  The  Californians 

them.  And  I  know  they  will  find  me  as  dull  as  when  I 
gave  those  dreadful  luncheons." 

She  was  recalled  by  a  direct  observation  of  her 
mother's. 

"  Your  washed  cross-barred  muslin  looked  very  plain 
beside  their  French  things,  but  I  do  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  get  you  any  new  clothes  at  present.  But  do 
not  let  it  worry  you.  Remember  that  what  we  do 
seems  right  to  every  one.  We  can  afford  to  dress 
exactly  as  we  choose." 

"  It  does  not  worry  me,"  replied  Magdale'na. 


XIV 

WHETHER  or  not  to  tell  her  parents  of  her  determina 
tion  to  write  had  been  a  matter  of  momentous  con 
sideration  to  Magdale'na.  After  the  renouncement  of  her 
faith  and  her  conversation  with  Colonel  Belmont,  she 
had  determined  to  adhere  rigidly  to  the  truth  and  to 
the  right  way  of  living,  to  conquer  the  indolence  of 
her  moral  nature  and  jealously  train  her  conscience. 
The  result,  she  felt,  would  be  a  religion  of  her  own, 
from  which  she  could  derive  strength  as  well  as  con 
solation  for  what  she  had  lost.  She  knew,  by  reading 
and  instinct,  that  life  was  full  of  pitfalls,  but  her  in 
telligence  would  dictate  what  was  right,  and  to  its 
mandates  she  would  conform,  if  it  cost  her  her  life. 
And  she  knew  that  the  religion  she  had  formulated 


The  Californians  87 

for  herself  in  rough  outline  was  far  more  exacting 
than  the  one  she  had  surrendered. 

She  had  finally  decided  that  it  was  not  her  duty  to 
tell  her  parents  that  she  was  trying  to  write.  When 
she  was  ready  to  publish  she  would  ask  their  consent. 
That  would  be  their  right ;  but  so  long  as  they  could 
in  no  way  be  affected,  the  secret  might  remain  her 
own.  And  this  secret  was  her  most  precious  pos 
session  ;  it  would  have  been  firing  her  soul  at  the 
stake  to  reveal  it  to  anyone  less  sympathetic  than 
Helena ;  she  was  not  sure  that  she  could  even  speak 
of  it  to  her. 

Her  time  was  her  own  in  the  country.  Her  father 
and  uncle  came  down  three  times  a  week,  but  rarely 
before  evening ;  her  mother's  mornings  were  taken  up 
with  household  matters,  her  afternoons  with  siesta, 
calling,  and  driving ;  frequently  she  lunched  infor 
mally  with  her  friends.  How  Magdale"na  spent  her  time 
did  not  concern  her  parents,  so  long  as  she  did  not 
leave  the  grounds  and  was  within  call  when  visitors 
came. 

Don  Roberto  would  not  keep  a  horse  in  town  for 
Magdale"na,  but  in  the  country  she  rode  through  the 
woods  unattended  every  morning.  The  exhilaration 
of  these  early  rides  filled  Magdale"na's  soul  with  con 
tent.  The  freshness  of  the  golden  morning,  the  drowsy 
summer  sounds,  the  deep  vistas  of  the  woods, — not  an 
outline  changed  since  unhistoried  races  had  possessed 
them, — the  glimpses  of  mountain  and  redwood  forests 
beyond,  the  embracing  solitude,  laid  somnolent  fingers 


88  The  Californians 

on  the  scars  of  her  inner  life,  letting  free  the  sweet 
troubled  thoughts  of  a  girl,  carried  her  back  to  the 
days  when  she  had  dreamed  of  caballeros  serenad 
ing  beneath  her  casement.  For  two  years  she  had 
dreamed  that  dream,  and  then  it  had  curled  up  and 
fallen  to  dust  under  Helena's  ridicule.  Magdale"na 
was  fatally  clear  of  vision,  and  her  reason  had  accepted 
the  facts  at  once. 

Sometimes  during  those  rides  she  dreamed  of  a 
lover  in  the  vague  fashion  of  a  girl  whose  acquaint 
ance  of  man  is  confined  to  a  few  elderly  men  and  to 
the  creations  of  masters ;  but  only  then.  She  rarely 
deluded  herself.  She  was  plain;  she  could  not  even 
interest  women.  She  felt  that  she  was  wholly  without 
that  magnetism  which,  she  had  read,  made  many  plain 
women  irresistible  to  man. 

XV 

DON  ROBERTO  was  to  bring  his  guest  with  him  on  the 
train  which  arrived  a  few  minutes  after  five.  Magda- 
l£na  was  told  to  dress  early  and  be  in  the  parlour 
when  Mr.  Trennahan  came  downstairs.  She  was 
cold  at  the  thought  of  talking  alone  with  a  man  and 
a  stranger;  but  Mrs.  Yorba  had  neuralgia,  and  an 
nounced  her  intention  to  lie  down  until  the  last 
minute. 

Magdal^na  had  received  a  number  of  pretty  pres 
ents  from  her  aunt  and  friends,  a  cablegram  from 
Colonel  Belmont  and  Helena,  and  from  her  father  a 


The  Californians  89 

small  gold  watch  and  fob.  Her  father's  gift  was  very 
magnificent  to  her,  and  her  pleasure  was  as  great  in 
the  thought  of  his  generosity  as  in  the  beauty  of  the 
gift  itself.  His  usual  gift  was  ten  dollars;  and  as  it 
had  been  decided  that  she  was  not  to  be  a  young 
lady  until  she  was  nineteen,  her  eighteenth  birthday 
had  been  passed  over. 

Her  mother's  present  was  the  dress  she  was  to  wear 
to-night,  a  white  organdie  of  the  pearly  tint  high  in 
favour  with  blondes  of  matchless  complexion,  a  white 
sash,  and  a  white  ribbon  to  be  knotted  about  the 
throat.  The  neck  of  the  gown  was  cut  in  a  small  V. 

Magdatena  had  no  natural  taste  in  dress,  nor  did 
she  know  the  first  principle  of  the  law  of  colour ;  but 
when  she  had  finished  her  toilette  she  stood  for  many 
moments  before  the  mirror,  regarding  herself  with  dis 
approval.  The  radiant  whiteness  of  the  frock  and  of 
the  ribbon  about  her  neck  made  her  look  as  dark  as 
an  Indian.  She  saw  no  beauty  in  the  noble  head  with 
its  parted,  closely  banded  hair,  in  the  fine  dark  eyes. 
She  saw  only  the  wide  mouth  and  indefinite  nose,  the 
complexionless  skin,  the  long  thin  figure  and  ugly 
neck.  The  only  thing  about  her  that  possessed  any 
claim  to  beauty,  according  to  her  own  standards,  was 
her  foot.  She  thrust  it  out  and  strove  to  find  encour 
agement  in  its  pulchritude.  It  was  thin  and  small  and 
arched,  and  altogether  perfect.  She  wore  her  first 
pair  of  slippers  and  silk  stockings,  —  a  present  from 
her  aunt.  Her  mother  thought  silk  stockings  a  sinful 
waste  of  money. 


90  The  Californians 

Magdal6na  sighed  and  turned  to  the  door.  "  Feet 
don't  talk,"  she  thought.  "  What  am  I  to  say  to  Mr. 
Trennahan?" 

She  walked  slowly  down  the  stair.  He  was  before 
her,  standing  on  the  verandah  directly  in  front  of  the 
doors.  His  back  was  to  her.  She  saw  that  he  was 
very  tall  and  thin,  not  unlike  her  uncle  in  build,  but 
with  a  distinction  that  gentleman  did  not  possess. 
Her  father  was  strutting  up  and  down  the  drive,  taking 
his  ante-dinner  constitutional. 

She  went  along  the  hall  as  slowly  as  she  could,  her 
hands  clenched,  her  mind  in  travail  for  a  few  words  of 
appropriate  greeting.  When  she  had  nearly  reached 
the  door,  Trennahan  turned  suddenly  and  saw  her. 
He  came  forward  at  once,  his  hand  extended. 

"This  is  Miss  Yorba,  of  course,"  he  said.  "How 
good  of  you  to  come  down  so  soon  ! " 

He  had  a  large  warm  hand.  It  closed  firmly  over 
Magdal£na's,  and  gave  her  confidence.  She  could 
hardly  see  his  face  in  the  gloom  of  the  hall,  but  she 
felt  his  cordial  grace,  his  magnetism. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  down  to  my  birthday 
dinner,"  she  said,  thankful  to  be  able  to  say  anything. 

"  I  am  highly  honoured,  I  am  sure.  Shall  we  go 
outside?  I  hope  you  prefer  it  out  there.  I  never 
stay  in  the  house  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  Oh,  I  much  prefer  to  be  out." 

They  sat  facing  each  other  in  two  of  the  wicker 
chairs.  He  was  a  man  skilled  in  woman,  and  he 
divined  her  shyness  and  apprehension.  He  talked 


The  Californians  91 

lightly  for  some  time,  making  her  feel  that  politeness 
compelled  her  to  be  silent  and  listen.  She  raised 
her  eyes  after  a  time  and  looked  at  him.  He  was, 
perhaps,  thirty-five,  possibly  more.  He  looked  oldei 
and  at  the  same  time  younger.  His  shaven  chin  and 
lips  were  sternly  cut.  His  face  was  thin,  his  nose 
arched  and  fine,  his  skin  and  hair  neutral  in  tint. 
The  only  colouring  about  him  was  in  his  eyes.  They 
were  very  blue  and  deeply  set  under  rather  scraggy 
brows.  Magdalena  noted  that  they  had  a  peculiarly 
penetrating  regard,  and  that  they  did  not  smile  with 
the  lips.  The  latter,  when  not  smiling,  looked  grim 
and  forbidding,  and  there  was  a  deep  line  on  either 
side  of  the  mouth.  Her  memory  turned  to  Colonel 
Belmont,  and  the  night  she  had  studied  his  profile. 
There  was  an  indefinable  resemblance  between  the 
two  men.  Then  she  realised  how  old-fashioned  and 
worn  Belmont  was  beside  this  trim  polished  man,  who, 
with  no  exaggeration  of  manner,  treated  her  with  a 
deference  and  attention  which  had  no  doubt  been  his 
habitual  manner  with  the  greatest  ladies  in  Europe. 

"Shall  you  be  in  California  long?"  she  asked 
suddenly. 

"  That  is  what  I  am  trying  to  decide.  I  had  heard 
so  much  of  your  California  that  I  came  out  with  a 
half-formed  idea  of  buying  a  little  place  and  settling 
down  for  the  rest  of  my  days." 

"The  Mark  Smith  place  is  for  sale,"  she  answered 
quickly.  "  It  has  only  two  acres,  but  they  are  culti 
vated,  and  the  house  is  very  pretty." 


92  The  Californians 

"  Your  father  told  me  about  it ;  but  although  Menlo 
is  very  beautiful,  it  seems  to  have  one  drawback.  I 
am  very  fond  of  rowing,  sailing,  and  fishing,  and  there 
is  no  water." 

"  There  is  if  you  go  far  enough.  The  bay  is  not  so 
very  far  away,  and  I  have  heard  that  there  is  salmon- 
fishing  back  in  the  mountains.  And  Mr.  Washington 
and  Uncle  Jack  Belmont  often  go  duck  and  snipe 
shooting  down  on  the  marsh."  She  stopped  with  a 
shortening  of  the  breath.  She  had  not  made  such  a 
long  speech  since  Helena  left. 

He  sat  forward  eagerly.  "  You  interest  me  deeply," 
he  said.  "  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  buy  the  place. 
I  shall  certainly  think  of  it." 

"  But  you  —  surely  —  you  would  rather  be  —  live  — 
in  Europe.  We  are  very  old-fashioned  out  here." 

The  expression  about  his  mouth  deepened.  "  I 
should  like  to  think  that  I  might  spend  the  rest  of 
my  days  with  a  fishing-rod  or  a  gun." 

"  But  you  have  been  at  courts  !  " 

He  laughed.  "  I  have,  and  I  hope  I  may  never  see 
another." 

"  And  —  and  you  are  young." 

Her  interest  and  curiosity  overcame  her  reserve. 
She  wanted  to  know  all  of  this  man  that  he  would 
tell  her.  She  had  once  seen  a  picture  of  a  death- 
mask.  His  face  reminded  her  of  it.  What  lay 
behind  ? 

"I  am  forty  and  some  months." 

She   rose    suddenly,  her   hand   seeking   her   heart. 


The  Californians  93 

"They  are  coming,"  she  faltered.  "I  hear  wheels. 
And  mamma  is  not  here  to  introduce  you." 

"Well,"  he  said,  smiling  down  on  her.  "Cannot 
you  introduce  me?" 

"I  —  I  cannot.  I  have  never  introduced  anyone. 
I  must  seem  very  ignorant  and  gauche  to  you." 

"  You  are  delightful.  And  I  am  sure  you  are  quite 
equal  to  anything.  Am  I  to  be  introduced  out  here, 
or  in  the  drawing-room  after  they  have  come  down 
stairs  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  am  not  sure." 

"Then  perhaps  you  will  let  me  advise  you.  When 
they  are  all  here,  I  will  appear  in  the  drawing-room ; 
and  if  your  mother  is  not  down  by  that  time,  we  will 
help  each  other  out.  They  will  all  be  talking  and 
will  hardly  notice  me.  But  I  must  run." 

The  Geary  phaeton  drove  up.  It  held  Rose  and  her 
brother.  After  they  had  gone  upstairs  Magdatena 
went  into  the  parlour  to  wait  for  them.  The  large 
room  was  very  dim — the  gasoline  was  misbehaving  — 
and  silent ;  she  shivered  with  apprehension.  There 
was  no  sign  of  her  mother.  But  Trennahan's  words 
and  sympathy  had  given  her  courage,  and  she  burned 
with  ambition  to  acquit  herself  creditably  in  his 
eyes. 

The  guests  arrived  rapidly.  In  ten  minutes  they 
were  all  in  the  parlour,  sixteen  in  number,  the  men 
in  full  dress,  the  women  in  organdies  or  foulards  show 
ing  little  of  arm  and  neck.  Mrs.  Washington  was  in 
pink ;  Tiny  in  white  and  a  seraphic  expression ;  Rose 


94  The  Californians 

wore  black  net  and  red  slippers,  a  bunch  of  red  gera 
niums  at  her  belt,  her  eyes  slanting  at  the  men  about 
her.  With  the  exception  of  Ned  Geary  and  Charley 
Rollins,  a  friend  of  Helena's,  with  both  of  whom  she 
had  perhaps  exchanged  three  sentences  in  the  course 
of  her  life,  Magdale"na  knew  none  of  the  young  men  : 
they  had  been  brought,  at  Mrs.  Yorba's  suggestion, 
by  the  other  guests. 

She  could   find   nothing   to  say  to   them ;    she  was 
watching  the  door.     Would  her  mother  never  come  ? 
Her  father  was  on  the  front  verandah  talking  to  Mr. 
Washington  and  her  uncle. 
Trennahan  entered  the  room. 

Magdalena  drew  herself  up  and  went  forward.  She 
looked  very  dignified  and  very  Spanish.  No  one 
guessed,  with  the  exception  of  Trennahan,  that  it  was 
the  ordeal  of  her  life. 

"  Mr.  Trennahan,"  she  said  in  a  harsh  even  voice : 
"  Mrs.  Washington,  Miss  Brannan,  Miss  Montgomery." 
He  flashed  her  a  glance  of  admiration  which  sent  the 
chill  from  her  veins,  and  began  talking  at  once  to  the 
three  women  that  she  might  feel  excused  from  further 
duty.  A  few  moments  later  Mrs.  Yorba  entered.  She 
received  Trennahan  without  a  smile  or  a  superfluous 
word.  Mrs.  Yorba  was  never  deliberately  rude  ;  but 
were  she  the  wife  of  an  ambassador  for  forty  years, 
her  chill  nipped  New  England  nature  would  never 
even  artificially  expand ;  the  cast-iron  traditions  of  her 
youth,  when  neither  she  nor  any  of  her  acquaintance 
knew  aught  of  socialities  beyond  church  festivals, 


The  Californians 


95 


could  never  be  torn  from  the  sterile  but  tenacious  soil 
that  had  received  them. 

Dinner  was  announced  almost  immediately.  Mrs. 
Yorba  signified  to  Trennahan  that  he  was  to  have  the 
honour  of  taking  her  in ;  and  as  she  had  not  inti 
mated  how  the  rest  were  to  be  coupled,  the  women 
arranged  the  matter  to  suit  themselves.  Mrs.  Cart- 
right  went  in  with  Don  Roberto,  Mrs.  Washington  with 
Polk ;  there  were  no  other  married  women  present. 
As  Charley  Rollins  was  standing  by  Magdal^na,  she 
took  the  arm  he  offered  her. 

The  function  was  not  as  melancholy  as  the  Yorba 
dinners  were  wont  to  be.  Young  people  in  or  ap 
proaching  their  first  season  are  not  easily  affected  by 
atmosphere ;  and  those  present  to-night,  with  the 
exception  of  Magdale"na  and  Tiny  Montgomery, 
chattered  incessantly.  Tiny  had  the  power  to  make 
her  temporary  partner  do  the  talking  while  she  enjoyed 
her  dinner;  but  she  listened  sweetly  and  her  super 
latives  were  happily  chosen. 

Mrs.  Cartright  always  talked  incessantly  whether 
anyone  listened  or  not.  Mrs.  Washington,  who  sat 
on  Don  Roberto's  left,  amused  him  with  the  audacity 
of  her  slang.  Where  she  learned  the  greater  number 
of  her  discords  was  an  abiding  mystery ;  the  rest  of 
Menlo  Park  relegated  slang  to  the  unknown  millions 
who  said  "mommer  "  and  "popper,"  got  divorces,  and 
used  cosmetics.  When  remonstrated  with,  she  airily 
responded  that  her  tongue  was  "  made  that  way," 
and  rattled  off  her  latest  acquisition.  As  she  was  an 


g6  The  Californians 

especial  pet  of  Mrs.  Yorba's  —  if  that  august  dame 
could  be  said  to  pet  anyone  —  and  of  distinguished 
Southern  connections,  the  remonstrances  were  not 
serious. 

Magdalena,  although  she  ordered  her  brain  to 
action,  could  think  of  nothing  to  say  to  Rollins;  but 
he  was  a  budding  lawyer  and  asked  no  more  of 
providence  than  a  listener.  He  talked  volubly  about 
Helena's  childish  pranks,  the  last  Bohemian  Club 
Midsummer  Jinks,  the  epigrams  of  his  rivals  at  the 
bar.  He  appeared  very  raw  and  uninteresting  to 
Magdalena,  and  she  found  herself  trying  to  overhear 
the  remarks  of  Trennahan,  who  was  doing  his  labori 
ous  duty  by  his  hostess.  After  a  time  Trennahan 
allowed  his  attention  to  be  diverted  by  Ila,  who  sat 
on  his  right.  That  he  was  grateful  for  the  change 
there  could  be  no  doubt.  His  expression  up  to  this 
point  had  been  one  of  grim  amusement,  which  at  any 
moment  might  become  careworn.  The  lines  of  his  face 
relaxed  under  Ila's  curved  smiles  and  slanting  glances. 
They  laughed  gaily,  but  pitched  their  voices  very  low. 

Magdalena  wondered  if  all  dinners  were  as  weari 
some  as  this.  Rollins  finally  followed  Trennahan's 
example  and  devoted  himself  to  Caro  Folsom,  a  yellow- 
haired  girl  with  babyish  green  eyes,  a  lisp,  and  an 
astute  brain.  On  Magdal£na's  left  was  a  blond  and 
babbling  youth  named  Ellis,  who  made  no  secret  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  afraid  of  his  intellectual  neigh 
bour  ;  he  stammered  and  blushed  every  time  she  spoke 
to  him.  He  had  gone  in  with  Rose  Geary,  a  blonde 


The  Californians  97 

fairy-like  little  creature,  as  light  of  foot  as  of  wit,  and 
an  accomplished  flirt ;  who  regarded  men  with  the 
eye  of  the  philosopher.  They  occupied  each  other 
admirably. 

Opposite,  another  young  lawyer,  Eugene  Fort,  was 
saying  preternaturally  bright  things  to  Tiny,  who  lifted 
her  sweet  orbs  at  intervals  and  remarked :  "  How 
dreadfully  clever  you  are,  Mr.  Fort ;  I  am  so  afraid  of 
you  !  "  or  "  How  sweet  of  you  to  think  I  am  worth  all 
those  real  epigrams  !  You  ought  to  keep  them  for 
a  great  law-book."  Once  she  stifled  a  yawn,  but  Mr. 
Fort  did  not  see  it. 

Little  notice  was  taken  of  Magdal6na,  and  she  felt 
superfluous  and  miserable.  Even  Trennahan,  who 
had  seemed  so  sympathetic,  had  barely  glanced  at 
her.  She  wondered,  with  a  little  inner  laugh,  if  she 
were  growing  conceited.  Why  should  he,  with  one 
of  the  prettiest  girls  in  California  beside  him?  Ila 
was  very  young,  but  she  belonged  by  instinct  to  his 
own  world. 

The  dinner  came  to  an  end.  The  older  men  went 
to  the  billiard-room,  the  younger  men  followed  the 
girls  to  the  parlour.  Trennahan  talked  to  Tiny  for 
a  time,  then  again  to  Ila,  who  lay  back  in  a  chair  with 
her  little  red  slippers  on  a  footstool.  She  had  care 
fully  disposed  herself  in  an  alcove  beyond  the  range 
of  Mrs.  Yorba's  vision. 

Tiny,  whose  train  added  to  the  remarkable  dignity 
of  her  diminutive  person,  crossed  the  room  to  Mag- 
dalena,  who  was  sitting  alone  on  the  window-seat. 

7 


98  The  Californians 

"  You  have  done  so  well,  'Le"na  dear,"  she  said,  as 
she  sat  down  beside  her  discouraged  hostess.  "  I  feel 
I  must  tell  you  that  immediately.  You  are  not  a  bit 
shy  and  nervous,  as  I  should  be  if  I  were  giving  my 
first  dinner." 

Magdale"na  smiled  gratefully.  Tiny  had  always  been 
the  kindest  of  the  girls.  "  I  am  glad  you  think  I  am 
not  so  bad,"  she  said.  "  But  I  fear  that  I  have  bored 
everybody." 

"  Indeed,  you  have  not.  You  are  so  calm  and  full 
of  natural  repose.  The  rest  of  us  seem  dreadfully 
American  by  contrast." 

"  You  are  never  fussy." 

"  I  know,  but  it  is  quite  different.  I  've  been  very 
carefully  brought  up.  You  would  be  exactly  as  you  are 
if  you  had  brought  yourself  up.  The  Spanish  are  the 
most  dignified —  What  are  they  going  to  do,  I 
wonder?  " 

Mr.  Fort  approached.  "We  are  going  to  walk 
about  the  grounds  and  step  on  the  frogs,"  he  said.  "  I 
don't  know  a  line  of  poetry,  but  I  can  count  stars,  and 
I  '11  tell  you  of  my  aspirations  in  life.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  I  so  want  to  hear  your  aspirations,  Mr.  Fort,"  said 
Tiny.  "  I  did  not  know  that  California  men  had  aspi 
rations." 

The  girls  went  with  him  to  the  verandah,  and  all 
started  down  the  driveway  together,  then  paired.  To 
her  surprise,  Magdalena  found  Trennahan  beside  her. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  be  with  you  again,"  he  said  petu 
lantly.  "  I  am  tired  of  types." 


The  Californians  99 

"Types?" 

"Yes;  women  that  a  man  has  been  used  to  for 
many  long  weary  years,  —  to  put  it  in  another  way." 

"  But  surely  you  find  Ila  very  fascinating?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  one  understands  the  fascination  so 
well ;  and  it  gives  so  much  pleasure  to  —  twenty-two, 
that  it  is  almost  immoral  for  an  old  fogy  like  myself  to 
monopolise  it.  I  don't  understand  you  in  the  least, 
so  I  am  here." 

Magdale"na  trembled  a  little.  The  nineteen  years  of 
her  life  suddenly  assumed  a  glad  complexion,  lifting 
her  spirit  to  the  level  of  her  mates.  She  tried  to  recall 
the  sad  and  bitter  experiences  of  her  brief  past,  but 
they  scampered  down  into  the  roots  of  memory. 

He  did  not  speak  again  for  a  time,  beyond  asking  if 
he  might  smoke.  He  was  quite  sincere  for  the  mo 
ment;  but  he  understood  the  much  of  her  that  was 
salient  to  his  trained  eye.  Her  parents,  her  timid  re 
serve,  so  unlike  that  of  other  American  girls  favoured 
by  fortune,  her  ignorance  of  certain  conventionalities, 
the  very  fashion  of  her  hair,  the  very  incompatibility  of 
her  costume  and  colouring,  told  him  two  thirds  of  her 
short  history.  Of  the  history  of  her  inner  life  he 
guessed  little,  but  believed  that  she  had  both  depth 
of  mind  and  intensity  of  feeling.  To  get  her  confi 
dence  would  be  next  to  impossible ;  it  was  therefore 
well  worth  the  effort.  If  she  proved  as  interesting  as  he 
suspected,  he  believed  that  he  should  feel  disposed  to 
marry  her  did  she  only  have  a  complexion.  He  was 
weary  straight  down  into  the  depths  of  his  weary  soul 


loo  The  Californians 

of  the  women  and  the  girls  of  the  world  ;  but  he  also 
abhorred  a  sallow  skin.  He  had  worshipped  beauty  in 
his  day,  and  was  by  no  means  impervious  to  it  yet ; 
but  he  felt  that  he  could  overlook  Magdal^na's  nose 
and  mouth  and  elementary  figure  for  the  sake  of  her 
eyes  and  originality,  did  she  only  possess  the  primary 
essential  of  beauty.  A  man  regards  a  woman's  lack  of 
complexion  as  a  personal  grievance. 

If  the  American  habit  of  monologue  had  been  a  part 
of  Trennahan's  inheritance,  his  foreign  training  had 
long  since  lifted  it  up  by  the  roots  ;  but  he  saw  that  if 
he  was  to  make  progress  with  this  silent  girl,  he  must 
do  the  talking.  He  could  be  both  brilliant  and  amus 
ing  when  he  chose,  and  he  exerted  himself  as  he  had 
not  done  for  some  time.  He  was  rewarded  by  a  rapt 
attention,  a  humble  and  profound  admiration  that  would 
have  flattered  a  demi-god.  And  in  truth  he  was  a 
demi-god  to  this  girl,  with  her  experience  of  elderly 
old-fashioned  men  and  an  occasional  callow  youth 
encountered  on  a  verandah  in  summer. 

They  followed  the  driveway  that  curved  between  one 
of  the  two  larger  lawns  and  the  deer  park.  The  lawn 
was  set  thickly  along  its  edge  and  sparsely  on  its  sweep 
with  fragrant  trees  and  shrubs.  Beyond  the  deer  park 
was  the  black  mass  of  the  woods.  The  air  was  sweet 
with  the  mingled  breath  of  June  roses,  orange  blossoms, 
and  the  pepper-tree.  After  a  time  their  way  lay 
,  through  a  dark  avenue  of  immense  oaks,  and  the  per 
fumes  came  from  the  Mariposa  lilies  in  the  fields 
beyond. 


The  Californians  IOI 

If  Trennahan  had  been  with  Ila,  he  would  have  con 
ducted  himself  as  his  surroundings  and  his  companion 
demanded  :  he  would  have  made  love.  But  he  was  a 
man  who  rarely  made  a  mistake ;  he  talked  to  Magda- 
le"na  of  the  difference  between  California  and  the  many 
other  countries  he  had  visited,  and  answered  her  eager 
questions  about  life  in  the  great  capitals.  As  they  were 
returning,  he  said  to  her,  — 

"  You  say  you  ride  before  breakfast.  Do  you  think 
I  might  join  you  to-morrow?  Your  father  has  been 
kind  enough  to  place  his  stable  at  my  disposal." 

"Oh — I — I  don't  know.  My  father  is  very — 
Spanish,  although  he  doesn't  like  you  to  call  it 
that." 

"  May  I  ask  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  could  ask  him." 

When  they  reached  the  house  he  sought  his  host  in 
the  billiard-room.  The  game  was  over,  and  Don  Ro 
berto,  Mr.  Polk,  and  Mr.  Washington  were  seated  in 
front  of  the  mantelpiece  with  their  feet  on  the  shelf. 
It  was  Don  Roberto's  favourite  attitude ;  he  felt  that 
it  completed  the  structure  of  his  Americanism.  He 
could  only  reach  the  tip  of  the  shelf  with  the  points  of 
his  little  elegant  feet,  but  he  was  just  as  comfortable  as 
Mr.  Polk,  whose  feet,  large  and  booted,  were  planted 
against  the  wall.  Mr.  Washington,  who  was  a  most 
correct  gentleman,  with  the  illustrious  forbears  his 
name  suggested,  had  never  lifted  his  feet  to  one  of  his 
own  mantels  in  his  life ;  but  Don  Roberto's  guests 
always  humoured  this  little  hobby,  among  many  others. 


IO2  The  Californians 

"Ay,  the  Mr.  Trennahan,"  said  Don  Roberto,  gra 
ciously.  "  We  make  room  for  you." 

The  others  moved  along,  and  Trennahan,  seeing 
what  was  expected  of  him,  brought  a  chair  and  ele 
vated  his  feet  among  the  Chinese  bric-a-brac.  He 
accepted  a  choice  cigar  —  there  were  certain  luxuries 
in  which  Don  Roberto  never  economised  —  and  added 
his  quota  to  the  anecdotes  of  the  hearthstone.  As  his 
were  fresh  and  the  others  as  worn  as  an  old  wedding- 
ring,  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  an  audience  which 
would  brook  no  interruption  but  applause. 

A  Chinaman  brought  a  peremptory  message  from 
Mrs.  Washington,  and  the  feet  on  the  mantel  were 
reduced  to  six.  When  these  came  down,  two  hours 
later,  Trennahan  said  to  Don  Roberto,  — 

"  May  I  ride  with  Miss  Yorba  to-morrow  before 
breakfast?" 

"  Yes ;  I  no  mind,"  said  the  don,  beaming  with 
approval  of  his  new  friend.  "  But  the  boy,  he  go  too. 
My  daughter,  no  must  ride  alone  with  the  gentleman. 
And  you  no  leave  the  grounds,  remember." 


XVI 

WHEN  Magdal£na  went  up  to  her  room,  she  spread  all 
her  pretty  gifts  on  the  table  and  asked  herself  if  they 
were  the  secret  of  this  novel  feeling  of  content  with 
herself  and  her  world.  She  studied  the  mirror  and 
fancied  that  she  was  not  as  plain  as  usual.  Her  eyes 


The  Californians  103 

returned  to  her  presents,  and  she  shook  her  head. 
Her  mind  worked  slowly,  but  it  worked  logically ;  nor 
was  that  imagination  hers  which  keeps  woman  in  a 
fool's  paradise  long  after  all  but  the  husk  of  her 
Adam  has  gone. 

"It  is  Mr.  Trennahan,"  she  admitted  reluctantly  but 
ruthlessly.  "He  is  so  clever  and  so  agreeable  —  no, 
fascinating  —  that  for  the  first  time  I  forgot  myself, 
and  when  I  remembered  was  not  unhappy  because  I 
am  not  beautiful  nor  clever.  The  world  must  be 
much  nicer  than  I  thought  if  there  are  many  people 
like  that  in  it." 

To  love  she  did  not  give  a  thought,  but  she  smiled 
to  herself  after  the  light  was  out,  and,  still  smiling,  fell 
asleep. 

The  next  morning  she  was  downstairs  by  six 
o'clock,  but  found  Trennahan  before  her.  As  he 
approached  her,  —  he  had  been  sauntering  up  and 
down  the  drive,  —  she  wondered  what  he  thought  of 
her  costume.  As  she  was  not  allowed  to  leave  the 
grounds,  a  habit  had  never  been  thought  necessary 
for  the  heiress  of  the  house  of  Yorba.  She  had  worn 
for  the  past  two  years  one  of  her  mother's  discarded 
black  skirts  and  a  cotton  blouse.  But  it  is  doubtful 
if  an  inspired  mind- reader  could  have  made  anything 
of  such  thoughts  as  Trennahan  wished  to  conceal. 

"You  look  as  fresh  as  the  morning,"  he  said,  with  a 
gallantry  which  was  mechanical,  but  true  and  delight 
ful  to  a  girl  in  her  first  experience  of  compliments. 

"Did  you  sleep   well?"  she  asked.     "I    hope  the 


IO4  The  Californians 

mosquitoes  did  not  keep  you  awake.  They  are  very 
bad." 

"  I  believe  they  are,  but  I  received  a  friendly  warn 
ing  from  Mr.  Polk  and  rubbed  the  leather  which  pro 
tects  my  skull  with  vinegar.  I  think  it  was  superfluous, 
but  at  all  events  I  slept  undisturbed." 

Magdale'na  regarded  his  skin  attentively,  much  to 
his  amusement.  "  It  is  thick,"  she  said,  feeling  that 
she  could  not  honestly  reassure  him,  but  quite  posi 
tive  that  he  expected  her  to  answer. 

He  laughed  heartily.  "  Oh  !  "  he  said.  "  What  a 
pity  you  must '  come  out '  !  I  am  a  convert  to  the  Old- 
Californian  system.  But  here  are  the  horses." 

The  improvised  groom,  a  sulky  and  intensely  self- 
conscious  stable-boy,  led  up  the  horses,  and  Magdalena 
put  her  foot  in  Trennahan's  hand. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  note  of  real  admira 
tion  in  his  voice  ;  and  Magdale'na  nearly  fell  over  the 
other  side  of  her  horse. 

They  cantered  off  sharply,  the  boy  following  a  good 
thirty  yards  behind,  feeling  uncommonly  sheepish  when 
he  was  not  thinking  angrily  of  his  neglected  chores. 
It  was  not  thought  good  form  in  Menlo  Park  to  put 
on  the  trappings  of  Circumstance.  Mrs.  Washington 
drove  a  phaeton  and  took  a  boy  in  the  rumble  to  open 
the  gates ;  but  the  coachmen  when  driving  the  usual 
char-a-banc  or  wagonette  performed  this  office  while 
their  mistresses  steered  the  horses  through  the  gates. 
No  one  ever  thought  of  wearing  a  jewel  or  a  de'collete' 
gown  to  a  dinner  or  a  dance.  Mrs.  Dillon,  the 


The  Californians  105 

Bonanza  queen,  having  heard  much  of  the  simplicity 
of  the  worshipful  Menlo  Park  folk,  had  paid  her  first 
calls  in  a  blue  silk  wrapper,  but,  conceiving  that  she 
had  done  the  wrong  thing,  sheltered  her  perplexities 
in  black  silk  thereafter.  Her  daughter  upon  the  same 
occasion  had  worn  a  voluminous  frock  of  pale  blue 
camel's  hair  trimmed  with  flounces  of  Valenciennes 
lace,  that  being  the  simplest  frock  in  her  wardrobe; 
but  she  privately  thought  even  Mrs.  Washington's 
apotheosised  lawns  and  organdies  very  "  scrubby," 
and  could  never  bring  herself  to  anything  less  expen 
sive  than  summer  silks,  made  at  the  greatest  house 
in  Paris. 

"I  am  going  to  see  the  Mark  Smith  place  this 
afternoon,"  said  Trennahan.  "Your  mother  has  very 
kindly  offered  to  drive  me  over.  I  suppose  it  has  no 
woods  on  it.  These  are  beautiful." 

"  They  are  the  only  ones  in  the  San  Mateo  Valley," 
replied  Magdatena,  experiencing  the  full  pride  of 
possession.  "  Are  there  such  beautiful  ones  in 
Europe  ?  " 

"Those  at  Fontainbleau  are  not  unlike.  But  in 
England  you  stand  in  the  middle  of  a  wood  and  admire 
the  landscape  on  either  side." 

"  Helena  wrote  me  something  like  that.  She  said 
that  she  always  put  on  a  veil  when  she  went  into  an 
English  wood  for  fear  she  would  get  freckled." 

"Who  is  Helena?" 

"  She  is  my  great  friend.  She  is  Colonel  Jack  Bel- 
mont's  daughter,  and  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  Califor- 


106  The  Californians 

nia.  At  least  I  think  she  is,  for  of  course  I  have  not 
seen  them  all." 

"  Are  you  always  as  conscientious  as  that  ?  Why 
have  I  not  seen  this  peerless  creature?" 

"  She  is  in  Europe.  You  will  see  her  in  December. 
Of  course  I  do  not  know  if  she  is  a  '  type,'  but  I  don't 
see  how  anybody  else  could  be  like  Helena.  Mr. 
Rollins  said  last  night  that  she  was  the  concentrated 
essence  of  California." 

"  Describe  her  to  me."  He  was  delighted  at  the 
prospect  of  drawing  her  out  on  any  subject. 

Magdal£na  hesitated,  wondering  if  she  should  have 
the  courage  to  continue,  did  she  begin  a  monologue. 
She  recalled  the  sustained  animation  of  the  girls  at  her 
dinner,  and  moved  as  if  to  shake  her  head,  then  recol 
lected  her  ambition  to  shine  in  conversation.  To  no 
one  had  she  ever  found  it  so  easy  to  express  herself 
as  to  this  man.  Why  not  take  advantage  of  that  fact? 
And  that  represented  but  the  half  of  her  present  ambi 
tion.  If  she  could  only  interest  him  ! 

He  watched  her  closely,  divining  some  cause  of  her 
hesitation,  but  not  all.  Her  complexion  was  even  less 
desirable  by  day  than  by  gas,  but  her  hair  was  tumbled, 
her  eyes  were  sparkling  softly ;  and  the  deep  green 
arbours  of  the  wood  were  an  enchanting  aid  to  youth. 

"  She  has  curly  shining  hair  about  the  colour  of 
mahogany,  and  big  —  long  —  dark  blue  eyes  that  look 
as  if  they  were  not  afraid  of  anything,  and  make  you 
afraid  sometimes,  and  regular  features,  and  a  whiter 
skin  than  Tiny's,  with  a  beautiful  pink  colour —  "  She 


The   Californians  107 

stopped  short,  feeling  that  her  attempt  at  description 
was  as  ineffective  as  the  hours  wasted  upon  her  much 
modelled  hero. 

"  That  sounds  very  charming,  but  still  —  never  mind 
her  appearance.  Tell  me  what  you  so  much  admire 
in  her." 

"  She  talks  so  much,  and  she  is  n't  afraid  of  anybody. 
She  says  she  would  n't  lie  because  she  would  n't  pay 
anyone  that  compliment.  She  loves  to  '  cheek '  and 
shock  people.  She  walks  all  round  the  outside  of  the 
house  —  upstairs  —  on  a  narrow  ledge,  and  she  runs  to 
fires  —  at  least  she  ran  to  one  —  and  she  won't  study 
when  she  does  n't  feel  like  it.  And  —  and  —  she  even 
snatched  off  papa's  skull-cap  once." 

Trennahan  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  loud 
and  long.  "  And  you  would  have  me  believe  that  all 
that  is  what  moves  you  to  admiration.  Don't  you 
know,  my  dear  child,  that  you  love  your  friend  in  spite 
of  her  tomboy  eccentricities,  not  because  of  them? 
You  would  n't  be  or  do  one  of  those  things  if  you 
could." 

Again  Magdalena  hesitated.  The  implied  approval 
was  delightful ;  but  she  would  not  hold  it  on  false  pre 
tences.  She  answered  firmly,  — 

"  I  went  to  the  fire  with  her." 

"You?  Delightful!  Tell  me  about  it.  Every 
detail." 

She  told  him  everything  except  the  terrible  sequel. 
It  was  lamely  presented,  but  he  cared  nothing  for  the 
episode.  His  sympathies  were  immediate  if  temporary, 


io8  The  Californians 

and  experience  had  eaten  off  the  very  cover  of  the 
book  of  seals.  He  followed  her  through  every  mental 
phase  she  unconsciously  rehearsed ;  and  when  she 
brought  the  story  to  an  abrupt  close,  lacking  the  art  to 
run  it  off  into  generalities,  he  inferred  something  of  the 
last  development  and  did  not  press  her  to  continue. 
He  pitied  her  grimly.  But  he  was  an  intensely  practi 
cal  man. 

"  You  must  never  think  of  doing  that  sort  of  thing 
again,"  he  said.  "  Unless  a  person  is  naturally  eccen 
tric,  the  attempt  to  be  so  demoralises  him,  because 
there  is  nothing  so  demoralising  as  failure  —  except  on 
one's  own  particular  lines.  Did  you,  for  instance,  jump 
on  a  horse  and  career  barebacked  through  Menlo  Park 
like  a  wild  Indian,  —  a  performance  which  your  friend 
would  probably  carry  off  with  any  amount  of  dash  and 
chic — you  would  feel  a  hopeless  fool;  whereas,"  he 
gave  her  a  keen  side  glance,  "  if  you  felt  that  you 
possessed  a  talent  —7  for  music,  say  —  and  failed  forty 
times  before  achieving  success,  you  would  feel  that 
your  failures  partook  of  the  dignity  of  their  cause,  and 
of  your  own  character." 

She  turned  to  him  with  quickening  pulse.  "  Do  you 
think,"  she  faltered,  hunting  for  phrases  that  would  not 
commit  her,  "  that  if  a  person  loved  an  art  very  much, 
even  if  he  could  not  be  sure  that  he  had  genius,  that 
he  would  be  right  to  go  on  and  on,  no  matter  how  often 
he  became  discouraged?" 

Her  eyes  were  staring  at  her  horse's  neck ;  she  did 
not  see  him  smile.  He  had  felt  quite  sure  that  she 


The  Californians  109 

sought  relief  for  the  silences  of  her  life  in  literary  com 
position.  When  an  unattractive  woman  has  not  talent 
she  finds  a  double  revenge  in  the  torture  of  words, 
he  thought.  What  shall  I  say  to  her?  That  she  is 
whittling  thorns  for  her  own  soul  ?  Bah !  Did  I  not 
find  enjoyment  once  in  the  very  imaginings  of  all  that 
has  scourged  me  since?  Would  I  have  thanked  any 
one  for  opening  my  eyes?  And  the  positive  is  the  one 
thing  that  grips  the  memory.  It  is  as  well  to  have 
what  high  lights  one  can. 

She  had  raised  her  head  and  was  looking  at  him  ex 
pectantly. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said.  "  He  should  go  on,  by  all 
means.  Love  of  an  art  presupposes  a  certain  degree 
of  talent."  —  May  Heaven  forgive  me  for  that  lie,  he 
thought. 

She  detected  his  lack  of  spontaneity,  but  attributed 
it  to  the  fact  that  he  had  not  guessed  her  personal 
interest  in  the  question.  "  Have  you  met  many  literary 
people?"  she  asked.  "  But  of  course  you  must.  Did 
you  like  them  very  much?  " 

"  I  have  inquired  carefully,  and  ascertained  that 
there  are  none  in  Menlo.  If  there  were,  I  should 
not  think  twice  about  the  Mark  Smith  place." 

Magdalena  felt  herself  burning  to  her  hair.  She 
glanced  at  him  quickly,  but  he  averted  his  eyes  and 
called  her  attention  to  a  magnificent  oak  whose  limbs 
trailed  on  the  ground.  Should  I  tell  him?  she 
thought,  every  nerve  quaking.  Should  I?  Then  she 
set  her  lips  in  scorn.  He  spoke  of  "  literary  "  people, 


no  The  Californians 

she  continued.  It  will  be  many  a  day  before  I  am  that. 
Meanwhile,  as  Helena  would  say,  what  he  doesn't 
know  won't  hurt  him. 

He  had  no  intention  of  letting  her  make  any  such 
confidences.  "Tell  me,"  he  said.  "I  have  heard 
something  of  the  old  Spanish  families  of  California. 
You,  of  course,  belong  to  them.  That  is  what  gives 
you  your  delightful  individuality.  I  should  like  to 
hear  something  of  that  old  life.  Of  course  it  interests 
you?" 

"  Oh,  I  love  it,  —  at  least,  I  loved  it  once.  My  aunt, 
my  father's  sister,  used  to  talk  constantly  of  that  time, 
but  I  have  no  one  to  talk  to  of  it  now ;  she  has  lived 
in  Santa  Barbara  for  the  last  three  years.  She  told 
me  many  stories  of  that  time.  It  must  have  been 
wonderful." 

He  drew  one  leg  across  the  horse's  neck  and  brought 
him  to  a  stand.  They  had  entered  the  backwoods  and 
were  walking  their  horses.  The  groom  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen.  He  was,  in  fact,  awaiting  them  at  the  edge 
of  the  woods,  his  beast  tethered,  himself  prone,  the 
ring-master  of  a  tarantula  fight. 

"  Tell  me  those  stories,"  commanded  Trennahan. 
He  knew  they  would  bore  him,  but  the  girl  was  very 
interesting. 

Magdale"na  began  the  story  of  Ysabel  Herrara.  At 
first  she  stumbled,  and  was  obliged  to  begin  no  less 
than  three  times,  but  when  fairly  started  she  told  it 
very  well.  Many  of  her  aunt's  vivid  picturesque 
phrases  sprang  from  their  dusty  shelves ;  her  own  early 


The  Californians  rn 

enthusiasm  revived.  When  she  had  finished  she  passed 
on  to  the  pathetic  little  histories  of  £lena  Duncan  and 
Benicia  Ortega.  She  had  told  over  those  stories  many 
times  to  herself;  to-day  they  were  little  more  than  the 
recital  of  a  well-studied  lesson.  The  intense  earnest 
ness  of  Trennahan's  gaze  magnetised  her  out  of  self- 
consciousness.  When  she  was  concluding  the  third, 
his  horse  shied  suddenly  at  a  snake,  and  while  he 
quieted  it  she  tumbled  back  to  the  present.  She  sat 
with  parted  lips  and  thumping  heart.  Had  she  talked 
as  well  as  that?  She,  Magdal£na  Yorba,  the  dull,  the 
silent,  the  terrified?  She  felt  a  glad  pride  in  herself, 
and  a  profound  gratitude  to  the  wizard  who  had  worked 
the  spell. 

"I  have  never  been  more  interested,"  he  said  in  a 
moment.  "  How  delightfully  you  talk  !  What  a  pity 
you  don't  write  !  " 

Magdale"na's  heart  shook  her  very  throat,  but  she 
managed  to  answer,  "  And  then  you  would  n't  buy  the 
Mark  Smith  place?" 

"  Well,  no,  perhaps  I  would  n't,"  he  answered  hur 
riedly,  lest  she  might  be  moved  to  confidence.  He 
had  a  lively  vision  of  Magdatena  reading  her  manu 
scripts  to  him,  or  sending  them  to  him  for  criticism. 
"  But  you  must  tell  me  a  story  every  time  we  —  I  am 
so  fortunate  as  to  have  you  all  to  myself  like  this.  I 
suppose  we  should  be  going  back  now." 

Magdale'na  took  out  her  watch.  The  little  air  of 
pride  in  her  new  possession  amused  Trennahan,  al 
though  he  saw  the  pathos  of  it. 


112  The  Californians 

"  Yes,"  she  said ;  "  it  is  nearly  eight.  We  must  go. 
Papa  does  not  like  us  to  be  late  for  breakfast." 

As  they  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods,  Magdalena 
gave  an  exclamation  of  disgust ;  but  Trennahan  leaned 
forward  with  much  interest.  The  two  tarantulas,  after 
tearing  each  other's  fur  and  legs  off,  were  locked  in  the 
death  embrace,  leaping  and  rolling. 

"Get  on  your  horse  at  once,"  said  Magdalena,  sternly. 
"  You  are  a  cruel  boy." 

"  But  that  is  very  interesting,"  said  Trennahan ;  "  I 
never  saw  it  before." 

"They  are  always  doing  it  here.  They  pour  water —  " 
She  turned  to  the  boy,  who  was  mounted,  and  close 
behind  them,  now  that  they  were  likely  to  come  within 
the  range  of  the  old  don's  vision  at  any  moment. 
"  Dick,"  she  said  sternly,  "  how  did  you  get  those 
tarantulas  up  ?  Have  you  a  whiskey  flask  about  you  ?  " 

She  spoke  with  all  her  father's  harsh  pride  when 
addressing  an  inferior  :  Don  Roberto  regarded  servants, 
in  spite  of  the  heavy  wage  they  commanded,  as  he 
had  the  Indians  of  his  early  manhood.  Trennahan 
watched  her  closely,  remarking  upon  the  variety  a  man 
might  find  in  a  woman  if  he  chose  to  look  for  it. 

The  boy  assured  Magdalena  that  the  tarantulas  had 
been  above  ground.  She  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
turned  her  back  expressively  upon  him. 

"  You  see  those  little  round  holes  covered  with  white 
film?"  she  said  to  Trennahan.  "They  lead  down  to 
the  tarantulas'  houses,  —  real  little  houses,  with  doors 
on  hinges.  People  pour  water  down,  and  the  old 


The  Californians  113 

tarantula  comes  up  —  back  first,  dragging  his  legs  after 
him  —  to  see  what  is  the  matter.  Then  they  set  two 
of  them  at  each  other  with  sticks,  and  they  —  the 
tarantulas  —  never  stop  fighting  until  they  have  torn 
each  other  to  death  :  they  have  two  curved  sharp  teeth." 
Good  sport  for  variety's  sake,  thought  Trennahan. 
I  see  myself  engaged  on  warm  afternoons. 


XVII 

AFTER  breakfast  Trennahan  lay  in  a  long  chair  on  the 
verandah  and  smoked  undisturbed.  Mrs.  Yorba  was 
busy,  and  Magdalena  sat  up  in  her  room,  longing  to  go 
down,  but  fearing  to  weary  him.  She  recalled  the 
early  hours  with  vivid  pleasure.  For  the  first  time  in 
her  life  she  was  almost  pleased  with  herself.  She  took 
out  her  writing  materials ;  but  her  beloved  art  would 
not  hold  her.  She  went  to  the  window  and  unfastened 
the  shutter  softly.  Trennahan  was  not  talking  to  him 
self  nor  even  walking  up  and  down  the  hard  boards 
below,  but  the  aroma  of  his  cigar  gave  evidence  that 
he  was  there.  It  mingled  with  the  perfume  of  the 
pink  and  white  roses  swarming  over  the  roof  of  the 
verandah  almost  to  her  window. 

She  experienced  her  first  impluse  to  decorate  her 
self,  to  gather  a  handful  of  those  roses  and  place  them 
in  her  hair.  Her  aunt  had  never  been  without  that 
national  adornment,  worn  with  the  grace  of  her  slender 
girlhood. 

8 


114  The  Californians 

She  stepped  over  the  sill,  catching  her  breath  as  the 
tin  roof  cracked  beneath  her  feet,  but  gathered  the 
roses  and  returned  to  her  mirror.  With  the  nimble 
fingers  of  her  race  she  arranged  the  roses  at  one  side 
of  her  head,  above  and  behind  the  ear.  Certainly  they 
were  becoming.  She  also  discovered  that  she  had  her 
aunt's  turn  of  the  head,  her  graceful  way  of  raising  her 
hand  to  her  ear. 

But  it  is  so  little,  she  thought  with  a  sigh ;  if  I  could 
only  have  the  rest ! 

Her  mind  wandered  back  to  the  heroines  of  her 
aunt's  tales.  If  she  but  had  the  beauty  of  those 
wondrous  girls,  Trennahan  would  have  taken  fire  in 
the  hour  that  he  met  her,  as  their  caballeros  had  done. 
The  thought  made  her  sigh  again,  not  with  a  woman's 
bitterness,  —  she  had  lived  too  little  for  that,  —  but  with  a 
girl's  romantic  sadness.  Why  had  she  been  defrauded 
of  her  birthright?  She  recalled  something  Colonel 
Belmont  had  once  said  about  "cross-breeding  being 
death  on  beauty  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten."  Why 
could  not  her  father  have  married  a  woman  of  his 
own  race?  She  dismissed  these  reflections  as  unfilial 
and  wicked,  and  returned  to  her  work ;  but  it  was 
only  to  bite  the  end  of  her  pen-holder  and  dream. 

Meanwhile  Trennahan  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  that 
his  Menlo  house  caught  fire  one  night  and  that  all  the 
maidens  of  his  new  acquaintance  came  in  a  body  to 
extinguish  the  flames.  Miss  Montgomery  played  a 
hose  considerably  larger  round  than  her  neck,  with 
indomitable  energy  and  persistence.  Miss  Brannan, 


The  Californians  115 

in  a  dashing  red  cap  and  jacket,  danced  like  a  bac 
chante  on  the  roof,  albeit  manipulating  large  buckets  of 
water.  Mrs.  Washington  was  also  there,  and,  swinging 
in  a  hammock,  encouraged  the  workers  with  her  char 
acteristic  optimism  expressed  in  picturesque  American. 
Magdale'na,  in  a  suit  of  her  father's  old  clothes,  was 
handing  his  books  through  the  library  window  to  Miss 
Folsom.  Miss  Geary  was  scrambling  up  the  ladder, 
a  hose  coiled  about  her  like  a  python.  The  leader  of 
the  company  stood  on  the  roof  directly  above  the  front 
door,  giving  orders  with  imperious  voice  and  gesture. 
But  although  the  flames  leaped  high  about  her,  starting 
the  leaves  of  a  neighbouring  tree  into  sharp  relief,  he 
could  not  see  her  face. 


XVIII 

TRENNAHAN  did  not  see  Magdale'na  until  luncheon. 
She  came  in  late,  and  her  manner  was  a  shade  colder 
and  more  reserved  than  usual.  After  much  excogita 
tion,  she  had  decided  to  leave  the  roses  in  her  hair, 
but  it  had  taken  her  ten  minutes  to  summon  up  cour 
age  to  go  downstairs. 

He  understood  perfectly,  and  his  soul  grinned. 
Then  he  sighed.  Youth  had  been  very  sweet  to  him, 
all  manifestations  of  femininity  in  a  woman  very  dear. 
There  were  four  long  windows  in  the  dining-room,  but 
the  roof  of  the  verandah,  the  thick  vines  springing  from 
pillar  to  pillar,  the  lilac-trees  and  willows  just  beyond, 


n6  The  Californians 

chastened  the  light  in  the  room.  Magdalena  looked 
almost  pretty,  with  her  air  of  proud  reserve,  the  roses 
nestling  in  her  dark  hair.  Ten  years  ago  he  might 
have  loved  her,  perhaps,  in  spite  of  her  complexion. 

Mrs.  Yorba  did  not  notice  the  roses.  Her  mind  was 
blind  with  wrath:  the  cream  sauce  of  the  chicken  was 
curdled.  During  at  least  half  the  meal  she  did  not 
utter  a  word ;  and  Trennahan,  wondering  if  fate  were 
forcing  him  into  the  permanent  role  of  the  garrulous 
American,  a  breed  for  which  he  had  all  the  finely  bred 
American's  contempt,  talked  of  the  weather,  the  woods, 
the  climate,  the  beauty  of  the  Californian  women,  with 
little  or  no  assistance  from  Magdalena.  The  moment 
he  paused,  and  he  was  hungry,  the  catlike  tread  of  the 
Chinese  butlers  was  the  only  sound  in  the  large  house ; 
the  silence  was  so  oppressive  that  he  reflected  with 
gratitude  that  his  visit  would  be  done  with  the  mor 
row's  morn. 

Finally,  Mrs.  Yorba  left  the  table  and  stepping 
through  one  of  the  open  casements  walked  up  and 
down  the  verandah.  She  was  very  fond  of  this  little 
promenade  between  the  last  solid  course  of  luncheon 
and  the  griddle-cakes  and  fruit. 

"  I  am  glad  you  wear  flowers  in  your  hair,"  said 
Trennahan.  "  Your  head  was  made  for  them.  I  am 
certain  your  Ysabel  What  's-her-name  must  have  worn 
them  just  so  the  night  her  ardent  lover  conceived  the 
idea  of  robbing,  the  Mission  of  its  pearls  for  her  fair 
sake." 

Magdal£na's  face  glowed  with  its  rare  smile.     "  But 


The  Californians  117 

Ysabel  was  so  beautiful,"  she  said  wistfully,  — "  the 
most  beautiful  woman  in  California." 

"  All  women  are  beautiful,  my  dear  Miss  Yorba  — 
when  they  are  young.  If  girls  could  only  be  made  to 
understand  that  youth  is  always  beautiful,  they  would 
be  even  prettier  than  they  are." 

Magdale"na's  eyes  were  large  and  radiant  for  a 
moment.  She  was  disposed  to  believe  in  him  im 
plicitly.  She  determined  that  she  would  think  no 
more  on  the  beautiful  women  of  her  race,  but  learn 
to  make  herself  attractive  in  other  ways.  Helena 
would  return  soon  and  would  teach  her. 

"  I  have  read  in  books  that  plain  women  are  some 
times  more  fascinating  than  beautiful  ones,"  she  said. 
"  How  can  that  be?  Of  course  you  must  know." 

"  A  fascinating  ugly  woman  is  one  who  in  the  same 
moment  sets  the  teeth  on  edge  and  makes  a  beauty 
look  like  a  daub  or  a  statue.  Her  pitfall  is  that  she 
is  apt  to  be  lacking  in  pride  :  she  makes  too  great 
an  effort  to  please.  Your  pride  is  magnificent.  I  say 
that  in  strict  truth  and  without  any  desire  to  pay  you  a 
compliment.  Had  fate  been  so  unkind  as  to  make 
you  an  ugly  woman,  you  would  not  have  had  a  jot  less ; 
it  is  the  finest  part  of  you,  to  my  way  of  thinking.  You 
are  worrying  now  because  you  have  less  to  say  than 
these  girls  who  have  travelled  and  been  educated 
abroad,  and  who,  moreover,  are  of  lighter  make. 
Don't  try  to  imitate  them.  The  knack  of  making  con 
versation  will  come  with  time ;  and  you  will  always  be 
appreciated  by  the  men  who  are  weary  past  your  power 


n8  The  Californians 

to  understand  of  the  women  that  chatter.  If  I  buy 
this  place,  I  shall  read  over  some  of  my  favourite  old 
books  with  you,  —  that  is,  if  you  will  let  me ;  and  I 
believe  that  you  will." 

Magdale"na's  hands  were  clasped  on  the  edge  of  the 
table;  she  was  leaning  forward,  her  soul  in  her  eyes. 
For  the  moment  she  was  beautiful,  and  Trennahan 
looked  his  admiration  and  forgot  her  lack  of  com 
plexion.  To  Magdalena  there  had  been  a  sudden 
blaze  of  golden  light,  then  a  rift,  through  which  she 
caught  a  brief  flash  of  heaven.  Her  vague  longings 
suddenly  cohered.  She  was  to  be  solitary  no  longer. 
She  was  to  have  a  companion,  a  friend,  —  perhaps  a 
confidante,  a  person  to  whom  she  might  speak  out  her 
inmost  soul.  She  had  never  thought  that  she  should 
wish  to  open  her  reserve  to  anyone,  but  in  this  pros 
pect  there  was  enchantment. 

Mrs.  Yorba  returned  to  her  seat  and  helped  herself 
to  hot  cakes. 

"  When  Miss  Montgomery  and  Miss  Brannan  were 
leaving  last  night,"  she  said,  "  they  asked  me  to  stop 
for  them  this  afternoon,  as  they  wished  to  persuade 
you  that  the  Mark  Smith  place  was  exactly  what  you 
wanted,  or  something  to  that  effect.  So  we  shall  stop 
for  them.  The  char-a-banc  will  be  at  the  door  at 
a  quarter  to  four." 

That  was  her  last  remark,  as  it  had  been  her  first, 
and  some  twenty  minutes  later  the  repast  came  to 
an  end. 


The  Californians  119 


XIX 

TRENNAHAN  was  again  left  to  his  own  devices.  He 
amused  himself  inspecting  the  stable,  a  most  unpreten 
tious  structure,  containing  all  that  was  absolutely  indis 
pensable  and  no  more.  Attached  to  the  farmhouse 
in  an  adjoining  field  was  a  barn  for  the  work-horses. 
The  stable-boy  did  duty  as  guide,  and  conducted 
Trennahan  through  the  dairy,  granary,  carpenter  shop, 
and  various  other  outbuildings.  It  was  all  very  plain, 
but  very  substantial,  the  symbol  of  a  fortune  that  would 
last ;  altogether  unlike  the  accepted  idea  of  California, 
that  State  of  rockets  and  sticks. 

But,  for  the  matter  of  that,  thought  Trennahan,  all 
things  should  be  stable  in  this  land  of  dreaming  nature. 
He  had  been  told  since  his  arrival  that  everything  had 
been  in  a  rut  since  the  great  Bonanza  plague ;  but 
assuredly  this  archaic  repose  must  be  its  natural 
atmosphere ;  its  fevers  must  always  be  sporadic  and 
artificial. 

Yes,  he  thought,  it  is  a  good  place  to  die  in.  It 
would  have  been  intolerable  ten  years  ago,  but  it 
seems  little  short  of  paradise  when  a  man  has  dry  rot 
in  him.  And  that  girl  looked  remarkably  well  with 
those  roses  in  her  hair.  Poor  thing ! 

Magdale"na  came  down  to  the  verandah  a  few 
moments  before  the  char-a-banc  drove  up.  She  wore 
a  buff  lawn,  simply  made  by  the  family  seamstress,  and 
a  large  straw  hat  trimmed  with  daisies.  She  had  taken 


I2O  The  Californians 

the  flowers  out  of  her  hair,  but  had  pinned  a  large 
cluster  of  red  roses  at  her  waist.  Altogether  she 
looked  her  best,  and  felt  that  she  might  be  able 
to  hold  her  own  against  the  other  girls. 

One  secret  of  Trennahan's  charm  for  women  was 
that  he  never  overlooked  their  little  efforts  to  please 
him.  He  said  immediately, — 

"  Yellow  and  red  were  made  for  you.  You  should 
leave  white  for  those  who  cannot  stand  the  fury  of 
colour." 

She  was  keenly  alive  to  the  pleasures  of  appreciation, 
but  merely  asked  if  he  had  managed  to  amuse  himself. 

"Fairly  well,  considering  that  you  deserted  me." 

"  But  they  almost  always  leave  the  men  alone  down 
here  in  the  daytime,  Tiny  says.  She  says  that  all 
they  come  for  is  to  get  away  from  San  Francisco, 
and  that  they  prefer  to  go  to  sleep  on  the  verandah 
or  the  lawns." 

"  I  should  not  have  guessed  that  Miss  Montgomery 
was  cynical.  I  fancy  she  finds  entertaining  in  the  open 
air  rather  sleepy  work  herself.  Or  perhaps  she  thinks 
they  are  sufficiently  honoured  in  being  asked  within 
the  sacred  precincts  of  Menlo  Park,"  he  added  mis 
chievously.  "  I  have  been  given  to  understand  that 
it  is  an  honour." 

"  We  keep  very  much  to  ourselves,"  said  Magdal£na, 
gravely.  "  We  never  care  to  know  new  people  unless 
we  are  sure  that  we  shall  like  them." 

To  flirt  with  her  a  little,  or  rather  to  flirt  at  her,  was 
irresistible.  He  bent  over  her,  smiling  and  compelling 


The  Californians  ill 

her  gaze.  "  And  how  can  I  be  sure  that  you  will  not 
find  me  wanting?  "he  asked;  "not  like  me  at  all  a 
month  hence  ?  I  think  I  should  wait  at  least  that  time 
before  buying  this  place." 

She  shook  her  head  seriously.  "  I  am  sure  we  are  all 
going  to  like  you.  While  you  were  with  papa  last  night, 
Tiny  and  Ila  and  Mrs.  Washington  and  Rose  and  Caro 
all  said  they  hoped  you  would  buy  the  Mark  Smith 
place.  Ila  said  she  had  not  come  back  to  California 
to  talk  to  children ;  and  Tiny  —  who  is  not  really  en 
thusiastic  —  said  you  were  one  of  the  few  men  she  had 
ever  wanted  to  see  a  second  time.  Mrs.  Washington 
said,  '  A  man-of-the-world  at  this  last  end  of  creation, 
stepping  off  landing — '" 

"  I  am  more  flattered  than  I  can  possibly  express, 
but  I  want  to  know  what  you  think  about  it.  Shall  you 
tire  of  me?  " 

"  Oh,  I  think  not.     I  am  sure  I  shall  not." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  buy  this  place? " 

She  looked  at  him  helplessly.  Instinct  whispered 
that  he  was  unfair,  but  she  had  no  anger  for  him.  "  I 
—  I  —  think  I  do,"  she  said.  "I  —  I  think  you  know 
I  do."  And  then  she  did  feel  a  little  angry  with  him. 

He  drew  back  at  once.  "  You  are  my  first  friend, 
you  know,"  he  said  in  his  ordinary  manner.  "  I  should 
not  think  of  settling  near  you  unless  I  were  sure  of 
not  boring  you.  But  I  believe  we  have  tastes  in  com 
mon,  and  I  hope  you  will  let  me  come  over  often." 

"You  will  be  always  welcome,"  she  said  formally. 
Her  anger  had  gone,  leaving  a  chill  in  its  wake. 


122  The  Californians 

The  char-a-banc  drove  up.  Mrs.  Yorba  descended 
simultaneously.  Her  virtues  were  many,  and  one  of 
them  was  punctuality. 


XX 

THE  Montgomerys'  house  was  next  in  age  to  the 
Yorbas',  but  neither  so  large  nor  so  solid.  Even  its 
verandah,  however,  had  a  more  homelike  air ;  its  car 
pets  and  rugs  were  old  but  handsome  ;  and  it  was  full 
of  pretty  trifles,  and  much  carved  furniture,  gathered 
in  Europe.  The  lawns  were  small,  the  grounds  care 
lessly  kept,  but  there  were  many  fine  old  trees  and  a 
wilderness  of  flowers. 

Coralie  Brannan  and  Lee  Tarlton,  Mrs.  Montgomery's 
little  ward,  were  romping  on  the  lawn  as  the  Yorbas 
drove  up.  Tiny  and  Ila  were  sitting  on  the  verandah. 
The  former  was  in  her  favourite  white,  and  a  hat  and 
sash  of  azure.  Ila  wore  a  superlatively  smart  frock  of 
yellow  silk  muslin,  and  a  yellow  sun-hat  covered  with 
red  poppies. 

Trennahan  saw  the  flash  of  dismay  from  Magdalena's 
eyes  before  her  face  settled  into  its  most  stolid  expres 
sion.  He  felt  genuinely  sorry  for  her,  but  his  only  part 
was  to  get  out  and  hand  these  radiant  visions  into  the 
char-a-banc. 

"  It  is  so  nice  to  think  that  you  may  be  a  neighbour 
of  ours,"  said  Tiny,  sweetly,  as  Ila  was  kissing  Mrs. 
Yorba,  and  asking  if  she  were  not  a  good  girl  to  meet 


The  Californians  123 

her  halfway.  "  We  shall  really  be  glad  to  have 
you." 

"  We  shall  make  him  forget  that  he  has  not  lived 
here  always,"  said  Ila,  with  her  most  brilliant  smile. 
She  was  much  elated  at  the  unexpected  foil.  "  He 
will  become  quite  one  of  us." 

"  I  am  sure  he  would  not  think  of  settling  elsewhere 
in  California,"  said  Mrs.  Yorba.  And  then  she  added 
with  what  for  her  was  extreme  graciousness,  "  My 
husband  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  him  for 
neighbour." 

Trennahan  murmured  his  thanks.  He  was  deeply 
amused.  That  he  was  the  representative  of  one  of  the 
proudest  families  in  a  State  some  three  hundred  years 
old  mattered  nothing  to  these  Californians  of  Menlo 
Park.  Is  it  catching,  I  wonder?  he  thought.  If 
some  of  my  English  friends  should  come  out  here  five 
years  hence,  should  I  patronise  them  ?  Doubtless,  for 
it  is  like  living  on  another  planet.  Exclusiveness  is  the 
very  scheme  of  its  nature.  It  is  encouraging  to  think 
that  I  have  yet  another  phase  to  live  through. 

Ila  claimed  his  attention  and  kept  it  as  they  rolled 
down  the  dusty  road  toward  the  Mark  Smith  place. 
Tiny,  after  a  futile  attempt  to  engage  Magdatena  in 
conversation,  devoted  herself  prettily  to  Mrs.  Yorba 
and  talked  of  the  plans  for  the  summer. 

Magdalena  was  acutely  miserable.  Her  exaltation 
of  spirits  was  a  bare  memory.  She  hated  her  dowdy 
frock,  her  glaring  contrast  to  the  vivid  Ila,  accentuated 
by  that  grotesque  similarity  of  attire.  She  listened  to 


124  The  Californians 

Ila's  brilliant  chatter  and  recalled  her  own  halting 
phrases,  her  narrow  vocabulary,  and  wondered  angrily 
at  the  conceit  which  had  prompted  her  to  hope  that 
she  was  overcoming  her  natural  deficiencies. 

Then  she  remembered  that  she  was  a  Yorba,  and 
drew  herself  up  in  lonely  pride.  It  was  a  privilege  for 
these  girls  to  be  intimate  with  her,  to  call  her  'Lena, 
great  as  might  be  their  social  superiority  over  the  many 
in  San  Francisco  whose  names  she  had  never  heard. 
In  her  inordinate  pride  of  birth,  in  her  intimate  knowl 
edge  of  the  fact  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  Cali- 
fornian  grandee  who  still  possessed  the  three  hundred 
thousand  acres  granted  his  fathers  by  the  Spanish 
crown,  she  in  all  honesty  believed  no  one  of  these 
friends  of  her  youth  to  be  her  equal,  although  she 
never  betrayed  herself  by  so  much  as  a  lifting  of  the 
eyebrow.  She  had  questioned,  after  her  loss  of  relig 
ion,  if  it  were  not  her  duty  to  train  down  her  pride, 
but  had  concluded  that  it  was  not;  it  injured  no  one, 
and  it  was  a  tribute  she  owed  her  race.  She  liked 
Trennahan  the  better  that  he  had  discovered  and 
approved  this  pride. 


XXI 

MAGDAL£NA  did  not  see  Trennahan  alone  again ;  he  did 
not  ask  her  to  ride  with  him  on  the  following  morning, 
and  left  for  town  immediately  after  breakfast.  But  be 
fore  taking  his  seat  in  the  char-a-banc  he  held  her  hand 


The  Californians  125 

a  moment  and  assured  her  with  such  emphasis  that  he 
owed  the  great  pleasure  of  his  visit  entirely  to  her, 
that  her  spirits,  which  had  been  in  weeds,  flaunted  in 
to  colour  and  song ;  and  she  went  at  once  to  her  nook 
in  the  woods,  feeling  that  the  fire  in  her  mind  was 
nothing  less  than  creative. 

But  she  did  not  write  for  some  time.  The  sun  was 
already  intensely  hot;  even  in  those  depths  the  air 
was  heavy,  the  heat  waves  shimmered  among  the 
young  green  of  the  undergrowth. 

Magdatena  stretched  herself  out  lazily  and  looked 
up  into  the  green  recesses  of  the  trees.  The  leaves 
were  rustling  in  a  light  hot  wind.  She  fancied  that 
they  sang,  and  strained  her  ears  to  catch  the  tune. 
It  looked  so  cool  and  green  and  dark  up  there ;  surely 
the  birds,  the  squirrels,  the  very  tree-toads,  —  those 
polished  bits  of  malachite,  —  must  be  happy  and  fond 
in  their  storeyed  palace.  What  a  poem  might  be  writ 
ten  about  them  !  but  they  would  not  raise  their  voices 
above  that  indefinite  murmur,  and  the  straining  ears  of 
her  soul  heard  not  either. 

She  sat  up  and  began  to  write,  endeavouring  to 
shake  some  life  into  her  heroine,  but  only  succeeding 
in  making  her  express  herself  in  very  affected  old 
English,  with  the  air  of  a  marionette. 

Then  mechanically,  almost  unconsciously,  she  began 
the  story  again.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  she  discovered 
that  she  had  dressed  up  Trennahan  in  velvet  and  gold, 
doublet  and  hose.  She  laughed  with  grim  merriment. 
Ignorant  as  she  was,  she  was  quick  to  see  the  incongru- 


126  The  Californians 

ity  between  mo^rn  man  in  his  quintessence  and  the 
romantic  garments  of  a  buried  century.  Also,  her 
hero  had  addressed  his  startled  friends  in  this  wise  : 

"  I  can't  stand  that  rat-hole  any  longer.  I  'm  going 
to  stay  down  here  with  the  rest  of  you,  whether  I  'm 
hanged  for  it  or  not." 

This  was  undoubtedly  what  Trennahan  would  have 
said ;  but  not  the  Cavalier,  Lord  Hastings  of  Fairfax. 
She  had  a  vague  prompting  that  on  the  whole  it  was 
preferable  to,  — 

"  Gadsooks,  my  bold  knights,  and  prithee  should  a 
man  rot  in  a  rat-ridden  cupboard  while  his  friends 
make  merry  ?  Rather  let  him  be  drawn  and  quartered, 
then  fed  to  ravens,  but  live  while  he  may." 

But  she  dismissed  the  thought  as  treason  to  letters, 
and  proceeded  on  her  mistaken  way  with  the  Lady 
Eleanora  Templemere.  Shakspere  and  Scott  were 
her  favourite  writers;  she  felt  that  she  must  fumble 
into  the  sacred  lines  of  literature  by  such  feeble  rays 
as  they  cast  her.  She  liked  and  admired  the  great 
realists  whose  bones  were  hardly  dust ;  but  they  did 
not  inspire  her,  taught  her  nothing. 


XXII 

THE  next  morning,  as  she  was  starting  for  the  woods, 
rather  later  than  usual,  Dick,  the  stable-boy,  who  had 
just  returned  from  the  post-office,  detached  a  letter 
from  a  packet  he  was  handing  the  butler  and  ran  after 


The  Californians  127 

her.  As  Helena  was  her  only  correspondent,  she 
marvelled  at  the  strange  handwriting,  but  opened  the 
letter  more  promptly  than  most  women  do  in  the 
circumstances.  It  was  from  Trennahan  and  read : 

DEAR  Miss  YORBA,  —  I  have  virtually  bought  the  place. 
That  is  to  say,  I  shall  buy  it  as  soon  as  the  deeds  are  made 
out.  Meanwhile,  I  am  looking  for  servants  and  hope  to 
move  down  on  Monday  next  at  latest.  Mr.  Smith  has 
also  consented  to  sell  me  his  stud,  which,  your  father  tells 
me,  is  exceptionally  fine.  So,  you  see,  I  am  really  to  be 
your  neighbour,  and  am  hoping  you  are  friendly  enough 
not  to  be  displeased.  At  all  events,  I  shall  give  myself  the 
pleasure  of  riding  over  on  Monday  evening,  and  hope  that 
you  will  join  me  in  another  ride  on  the  following  morning. 
Meanwhile,  can  I  do  anything  for  you  in  town  ?  Is  there 
anything  that  you  would  care  to  read  ?  Pray  command 
me. 

Faithfully, 

J.  S.  TRENNAHAN. 

Never  was  there  a  more  commonplace  or  business 
like  note,  but  it  seemed  a  miracle  of  easy  grace  to 
Magdale"na  :  it  was  the  first  note  of  any  sort  that  she  had 
received  from  a  man  not  old  enough  to  be  her  father. 
She  invested  it  with  all  the  man's  magnetism,  and 
heard  it  enunciated  in  his  cultivated  voice.  She 
imagined  it  delivered  in  the  nasal  tones  of  her  uncle, 
or  in  the  thick  voice  of  the  youth  that  had  sat  on  her 
left  at  the  birthday  dinner,  —  she  had  forgotten  his 
name,  —  and  shuddered. 

She  recalled  that  her  mother  had  received  an  en 
velope  directed  by  the  same  hand  the  night  before; 


128  The  Californians 

but  that,  doubtless,  had  been  a  mere  note  of  politeness. 
He  had  written  this  because  he  wished  to  do  so  ! 

She  spent  the  entire  morning  answering  the  note,  and 
discovered  that  it  was  as  easy  to  write  a  book.  After 
tearing  up  some  twenty  epistles,  she  concluded  that 
the  following,  when  copied  on  her  best  note-paper, 
and  compared  with  the  dictionary,  would  do,  — 

DEAR  MR.  TRENNAHAN,  —  I  am  glad  that  you  have 
bought  the  Mark  Smith  place.  There  is  nothing  that  I 
want.  Many  thanks. 

Yours  truly, 

MAGDALE'NA  YORBA. 


XXIII 

ON  the  following  Monday  Don  Roberto  had  a  cold 
and  did  not  go  to  town,  but  sunned  himself  on  the 
verandah,  alternately  sipping  whiskey  and  eating  qui 
nine  pills.  Magdale'na  dutifully  kept  him  company, 
and  the  whiskey  having  made  him  unusually  amiable, 
he  talked  more  than  was  his  wont  with  the  women  of 
his  family.  In  his  way  he  was  fond  of  his  daughter, 
deeply  as  she  had  disappointed  him ;  and,  had  she 
known  how  to  manage  him,  doubtless  her  girlish  wants 
would  have  met  with  few  rebuffs.  But  that  would  have 
meant  another  Magdale'na. 

"  I  like  this  Trennahan,"  he  announced.  "  He  pre 
fer  talk  with  me  than  with  the  young  mens,  and  he 
know  plenty  good  stories,  by  Jimminy !  He  have 


The  Californians  129 

call  on  me  at  the  bank  three  times,  and  I  have  lunch 
with  him  one  day.  Damn  good  lunch.  He  is  what 
Jack  call  thoroughbred,  and  have  the  manners  very 
fine.  I  like  have  him  much  for  the  neighbour.  He 
ask  myself  and  Eeram  and  Washeengton  to  have 
the  dinner  with  him  on  Thursday  and  warm  the  house. 
He  understand  the  good  wine  and  the  tabac,  by  Scott ! 
I  feel  please  si  he  ask  me  plenty  time,  and  I  have 
him  here  often." 

Magdale"na  was  delighted  with  these  unexpected 
sentiments.  She  pressed  her  lips  together  twice,  then 
said,  — 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  could  ride  again  with  him 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  have  not  the  objection  to  you  ride  all  you  want 
it  with  Mr.  Trennahan,  si  you  not  go  outside  the  place. 
Need  not  take  that  boy,  for  he  have  the  work ;  and  I 
have  trust  in  Mr.  Trennahan." 

He  would,  indeed,  have  welcomed  Trennahan  as  a 
son-in-law.  Magdal£na  must  inherit  his  wealth  as  well 
as  the  immense  fortune  of  her  uncle ;  neither  of  these 
worthy  gentlemen  had  the  least  ambition  to  be  carica 
tured  in  bronze  and  accumulate  green  mould  as  public 
benefactors.  Nor  did  Don  Roberto  regret  that  he  had 
no  son,  having  the  most  profound  contempt  for  the 
sons  of  rich  men,  as  they  circled  within  his  horizon. 
It  would  be  one  of  the  terms  of  his  will  that  Magda- 
tena's  first  son  should  be  named  Yorba,  and  that  the 
name  should  be  perpetuated  in  this  manner  until 
California  should  shake  herself  into  the  sea. 

9 


The  Californians 

He  had  long  since  determined  that  Magdalena 
should  marry  no  one  of  the  sons  of  his  moneyed 
friends,  nor  yet  any  of  the  sprouting  lawyers  or 
unfledged  business  youths  who  made  up  the  masculine 
half  of  the  younger  fashionable  set.  Nor  would  he 
leave  his  money  in  trust  for  trustees  to  fatten  on. 
Ever  since  Magdalena's  sixteenth  birthday  he  had 
been  on  the  look-out  for  a  son-in-law  to  his  pattern. 
The  New  Yorker  suited  him.  A  wealthy  man  himself, 
Trennahan's  motives  could  not  be  misconstrued.  His 
birth  and  breeding  were  all  that  could  be  desired, 
even  of  a  Yorba.  He  understood  the  value  of  money 
and  its  management.  And  he  was  well  past  the 
spendthrift  age. 

Don  Roberto  and  Mr.  Polk  had  discussed  the  mat 
ter  between  them  J  and  these  two  wily  old  judges  of 
human  nature  had  agreed  that  Trennahan  must  become 
the  guardian  of  their  joint  millions.  Magdalena  was 
her  father's  only  misgiving.  Would  a  man  with  an 
exhaustive  experience  of  beautiful  women  be  attracted 
into  marriage  by  this  ugly  duckling?  But  Trennahan 
had  passed  his  youth.  Perhaps,  like  himself,  he  would 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  better  to  have 
a  plain  wife  and  leave  beauty  to  one's  mistresses.  He 
had  not  the  slightest  objection  to  Trennahan  having 
a  separate  establishment;  in  fact,  he  thought  a  man 
a  fool  who  had  not. 

Little  escaped  his  sharp  eyes.  He  had  noted 
Trennahan's  interest  in  Magdalena,  the  length  of  the 
morning  ride,  his  daughter's  sparkling  eyes  at  break- 


The  Californians  131 

fast.  Propinquity  would  do  much ;  and  the  bait  was 
dazzling,  even  to  a  man  of  fortune. 

He  became  aware  that  Magdal£na  was  speaking. 

"  I  have  no  habit ;  and  Ila  says  that  they  intend  to 
have  riding  parties." 

"You  can  get  one  habit.  Go  up  to-morrow  and 
order  one." 

Magdalena  felt  a  little  dazed,  and  wondered  if 
everything  in  her  life  were  changing. 

"  I  hear  wheels,"  she  said  after  a  moment.  They 
were  on  the  verandah  on  the  right  of  the  house.  She 
stood  up  and  watched  the  bend  of  the  drive.  "  It  is 
the  Montgomery  char-a-banc,"  she  said,  "  and  there 
are  Mrs.  Cartright  and  Tiny  and  Ila  and  Rose.  Shall 
you  stay  ?  " 

"  I  stay.  Bring  them  here  to  me.  Tiny  and  Ila 
beautiful  girls.  Great  Scott !  they  know  what  they 
are  about.  Rose  very  pretty,  too." 

The  char-a-banc  drew  up  ;  and  as  its  occupants  did 
not  alight,  Magdalena  went  down  and  stood  beside 
it,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand. 

"We  have  come  to  take  you  for  a  drive  to  the 
hills,  'Le"na  dear,"  said  Tiny.  "  Do  come." 

"  Papa  has  a  bad  cold.     I  cannot  leave  —  " 

"  Poor  dear  Don  Roberto  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cart- 
right.  "  I  will  get  out  this  minute  and  speak  to  him. 
I  know  so  many  remedies  for  a  cold,  —  blackberry 
brandy,  or  currant  wine,  or  inhaling  burnt  linen  and 
drinking  hot  water  —  "  But  she  was  halfway  down 
the  verandah  by  this  time. 


132  The  Californians 

"  Do  you  remember  the  last  time  we  went  to  the 
hills?"  asked  Ila.  "Helena  and  Rose  shrieked  with 
such  hilarity  that  the  horses  bolted." 

"I  can  answer  for  myself,"  said  Rose.  "  I  may  say 
that  the  memory  was  burnt  in  with  a  slipper." 

"I  never  was  spanked,"  murmured  Tiny.  "That 
is  one  of  the  many  things  I  am  grateful  for.  It  must 
be  so  humiliating  to  have  been  spanked." 

"Who  can  tell  what  futures  may  lie  in  a  slipper?" 
replied  Rose,  who  had  a  reputation  for  being  clever. 
"  I  am  sure  that  my  slipperings,  for  instance,  generated 
a  tendency  for  epigram ;  something  swift  and  sharp. 
It  destroyed  the  tendency  to  bawl  continuously,  —  the 
equivalent  of  the  great  national  habit  of  monologue." 

"Rose,  you  are  quite  too  frightfully  clever,"  said 
Tiny,  with  an  assumption  of  languor.  "  You  will  be 
writing  a  book  next." 

"  I  will  make  'Le'na  the  heroine,"  retorted  Rose, 
with  a  keen  glance,  "  and  call  it  '  The  Sphinx  of  Menlo 
Park.'  " 

"  Fancy  'Le'na  being  called  a  sphinx,"  said  Ila,  who 
was  looking  very  bored.  "  Are  you  coming,  'L£na,  or 
not?  I  suppose  you  don't  want  to  be  kept  standing 
in  the  sun." 

"  Oh,  we  're  all  used  to  that,"  said  Rose.  "  I  have 
three  new  freckles  that  I  owe  to  Mrs.  Washington  and 
Caro  Folsom.  They  called  yesterday  and  kept  me 
standing  in  the  sun  exactly  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
before  they  made  up  their  minds  to  come  in  and  stay 
ten  minutes." 


The  Californians  133 

«  I  'd  like  to  go  —  " 

Mrs.  Cartright  returned,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Don  Roberto  does  not  want  to  be  left  alone,"  she 
said.  "  I  fortunately  thought  of  a  most  wonderful 
remedy  for  colds,  and  I  have  also  been  telling  him 
about  a  terrible  cold  General  Lee  had  once  when  he 
was  staying  with  us.  He  did  look  so  funny,  dear  great 
man,  with  his  head  tied  up  in  one  of  old  Aunt  Sally's 
bandannas  —  " 

"  Please  excuse  me  for  interrupting  you,  dear  Mrs. 
Cartright,"  said  Tiny,  firmly ;  "  but  I  think  we  had 
better  get  out  and  talk  to  Don  Roberto,  and  go  to 
the  hills  another  day  when  'Le'na  can  go  with  us. 
Don't  you  think  that  would  be  best?"  she  murmured 
to  the  other  girls.  "  We  might  help  to  amuse  him  a 
little." 

"  It  will  be  vastly  to  our  credit,"  said  Rose,  "  for 
he  certainly  won't  amuse  us." 

"  Has  anyone  ever  been  amused  here  ?  "  asked  Ila, 
looking  at  Magdale"na,  who  was  politely  listening  to 
Mrs.  Cartright's  anecdote.  "  Fancy  having  the  biggest 
house  in  the  smartest  county  in  California  and  making 
no  more  of  it  than  if  it  were  a  cottage.  The  rest  of 
the  houses  are  so  cut  up ;  but  fancy  what  dances  we 
could  have  here." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  over  a  plan,"  said  Tiny, 
"  and  that  is  to  try  to  manage  Don  Roberto.  'Le'na 
can't,  but  I  think  the  rest  of  us  could,  and  Mrs.  Yorba 
likes  to  give  parties." 

"  I  am  told  that  in  early  days  there  was  an  extra 


134  The  Californians 

burst  of  lawlessness  after  each  of  her  balls,  —  reac 
tion,"  said  Rose. 

"  I  don't  think  that  it  is  nice  for  us  to  be  discussing 
people  at  their  very  doorstep,"  said  Tiny.  "  I  just 
thought  I  'd  mention  my  plan.  And  if  it  succeeded, 
and  all  took  charge,  as  it  were,  there  need  be  no  stiff 
ness  in  an  informal  party  in  the  country.  Shall  we 
get  out?" 

"  By  all  means,  General  Tom  Thumb,"  said  Rose, 
with  some  ire  ;  "  it  is  very  plain  who  is  to  be  boss  in 
this  community,  as  Mrs.  Washington  would  say." 

"  Wait  till  Helena  comes,"  whispered  Ila. 


XXIV 

DON  ROBERTO  rose  as  they  approached.  He  did  not 
take  off  his  skull-cap,  but  he  received  them  with  the 
courtly  grace  of  the  caballero,  one  of  his  inheritances 
which  he  had  not  permanently  discarded,  although 
he  practised  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  his  Ameri 
can  manners  in  the  sanctity  of  his  home. 

He  bowed  low,  kissed  their  finger-tips,  and  handed 
them  in  turn  to  the  chairs  which  he  first  arranged  in  a 
semi-circle  about  his  own.  When  he  resumed  his 
former  half-reclining  attitude  he  had  the  air  of  an 
invalid  sultan  holding  audience. 

"We  are  so  sorry  that  you  have  such  a  dreadful 
cold,"  said  Tiny,  with  her  sweetest  smile  and  em 
phasis  ;  "  and  so  glad  that  we  happened  to  drive  up. 


The  Californians  135 

You  couldn't  come  for  a  drive  with  us,  could  you? 
We  should  love  to  have  you." 

Don  Roberto  rose  to  the  bait  at  once.  He  was  as 
susceptible  to  the  blandishments  of  pretty  women  as 
Jack  Belmont,  although  their  influence  over  his  purse 
was  an  independent  matter. 

"Very  glad  I  am  that  I  have  the  cold,"  he  answered 
gallantly ;  "  for  it  give  me  the  company  of  three  so 
beautiful  ladies.  I  no  can  go  for  drive,  for  it  blow, 
perhaps ;  but  1  no  care,  so  long  as  you  here  with  me 
sit." 

"  Well,  we  are  going  to  stay  a  long  time ;  and  we 
are  so  glad  we  are  back  in  Menlo  again,  —  so  many  of 
us  together.  We  used  to  love  so  to  come  here ;  it 
seems  ages  ago.  And  now  that  we  have  got  'Le'na 
again,  you  must  expect  us  to  fairly  overrun  the 
house." 

"  It  is  yours,"  said  Don  Roberto,  in  the  old  ver 
nacular.  "  Burn  it  if  you  will." 

Tiny,  who  had  never  heard  even  an  anecdote  of  the 
early  Californians,  gave  a  quick  glance  at  the  whiskey 
flask,  but  replied  undauntedly,  — 

"  How  gallant  you  are,  Don  Roberto  !  The  young 
men  say  such  stupid  things.  But  you  always  were  so 
original !  " 

"  Poor  old  dear,  I  feel  like  wiping  it  off,"  whispered 
Rose  to  Ila. 

But  it  was  evident  that  Don  Roberto's  vision  was 
powdered  with  the  golden  dust  of  flattery.  He  smiled 
approvingly  into  Tiny's  pretty  face.  "  But  I  say  true, 


136  The  Californians 

and  the  young  mens  do  not  sometimes.  It  make  me 
young  again  to  see  you  here." 

"  One  would  think  you  were  <?/</,"  said  Tiny.  "  But 
do  you  really  like  to  see  us  here?  Should  you  mind 
if  we  came  sometimes  in  the  evening?  It  would  be 
such  fun  to  meet  at  each  other's  houses  and  talk  on 
the  verandahs." 

"Come  all  the  evenings,"  said  Don  Roberto, 
promptly,  "si  you  talk  to  me  sometimes." 

"  /  want  to  do  that.  Ila  plays,  and  Rose  sings  beau- 
tifully.  Some  evening  we  will  get  up  charades  —  to 
amuse  you." 

"On  Saturday,  Sunday,  Tuesday,  and  Thursday 
nights  I  am  here." 

"Those  will  be  our  evenings  to  come  here."  She 
gave  a  peremptory  glance  to  Rose,  who  responded 
hurriedly,  "Are  you  fond  of  music,  Don  Roberto? 
It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  sing  for  you ;  and  Ila 
has  been  learning  some  of  my  accompaniments." 

Don  Roberto  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  His 
memory  had  played  him  a  trick  :  it  had  leaped  back  to 
the  days  of  guitars  and  gratings.  He  rarely  sought  the 
society  of  gentlewomen,  not,  at  least,  of  those  whose 
names  were  on  visiting  lists.  There  was  something 
unexpectedly  sweet  and  fragrant  in  the  company  of 
these  three  beautiful  girls.  Don  Roberto's  memories 
were  hanging  in  a  dusty  cupboard,  and  his  heart  had 
shrunken  like  the  meat  of  a  nut  too  long  neglected ; 
but  there  was  life  at  the  core,  and  the  memories  came 
forth,  wanting  only  a  breath  to  dust  them.  Yes,  he 


The  Califbrnians  137 

should  like  to  have  these  girls  about  him.  And  Mag- 
dalena  had  lived  the  life  of  a  hermit.  It  was  time  for 
her  to  enjoy  her  girlhood. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "alway  I  like  the  music.  Si  the 
piano  need  tune,  I  send  one  man  down.  You  can 
dance,  too,  si  you  like  it.  Always  I  like  see  the  young 
peoples  dance." 

Tiny  clapped  her  hands.  Ila  leaned  forward  and 
patted  his  hand. 

"  What  an  inspiration  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  This  will 
be  a  simply  gorgeous  house  to  dance  in.  Don  Ro 
berto,  you  certainly  are  an  angel !  " 

Don  Roberto  had  never  been  called  an  angel  before, 
but  he  smiled  approvingly.  "  Some  night  this  week 
we  have  the  dance,"  he  said.  "My  wife  write  you 
to-night." 

"  I  am  on  the  verge  of  nervous  prostration,"  whis 
pered  Rose,  as  his  attention  was  claimed  by  Mrs. 
Cartright.  "  The  effort  of  keeping  my  countenance  — 
but  the  way  you  handle  a  trowel,  Tiny,  is  a  new  chap 
ter  in  diplomacy.  Butter  and  molasses  for  fifty  and 
after;  a  vaporiser  and  peau  d'espagne  for  the  sharp 
young  things.  I  was  just  saying,"  she  added  hastily, 
as  Don  Roberto  reclined  suddenly  and  turned  to  her, 
"that  young  men  are  a  nuisance.  I  am  thinking  of 
writing  a  book  of  advice  —  " 

"  A  book  !  "  cried  Don  Roberto,  his  brows  rushing 
together.  "  You  no  write  the  books  ?  " 

"Of  course  she  would  never  publish,"  interposed 
Tiny.  "  She  would  just  write  it  for  our  amusement.  I 


138  The  Californians 

think  it  would  be  so  horrid  to  publish  the  cleverest 
book,"  she  said,  turning  to  Magdaldna,  unmistakable 
sincerity  in  her  voice.  "  It  has  always  seemed  to  me 
so  —  so  —  horrid  for  women  to  write  things  to  print  — 
for  anybody  to  read." 

Magdale"na  did  not  answer  her.  She  was  staring  at 
her  father,  breathless  for  his  next  words. 

"The  ladies  never  write,"  announced  that  grandson 
of  old  Spain.  "  Nor  the  gentlemens.  Always  the 
common  peoples  write  the  books." 

"Oh,  it's  better  now,  really,"  said  Rose.  "Some 
people  that  write  are  said  to  be  quite  nice.  Of  course, 
one  doesn't  meet  them  in  society,  —  in  San  Francisco 
society,  at  least,  —  but  that  may  be  the  fault  of  society." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Tiny.  "  I  do  not  mean  that 
people  who  write  must  be  horrid.  But  I  think  I 
could  n't  know  a  woman  who  made  her  name  so  public, 
—  I  mean  if  I  hadn't  been  fond  of  her  before ;  but  I 
should  really  hate  to  see  a  friend's  name  in  print. 
You  are  not  really  thinking  of  writing  a  book,  are  you, 
Rose,  dear?" 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  writing  a  book  — 
for  the  very  good  reason  that  I  haven't  brains 
enough.  You  need  n't  worry  about  any  of  us  adding 
to  the  glory  of  California — unless,  to  be  sure,  'Le"na 
should  be  clever  enough." 

She  spoke  at  random,  and  Magdaldna's  face  did  not 
betray  her  \  but  she  almost  hated  the  girl  who  was 
forcing  her  to  another  of  her  mental  crises. 

"My  daughter  write!"  shouted  Don  Roberto.     "A 


The  Californians  139 

Yorba  !  She  make  a  fool  de  my  name  like  the  play 
actor  that  do  the  monkey  tricks  on  the  stage  ?  Si  she 
do  that  — " 

"  Here  comes  Mr.  Trennahan,"  said  Magdal£na, 
standing  up.  "  Mamma  is  not  here.  I  must  go  to 
meet  him." 

Trennahan  threw  the  reins  to  his  groom  and  sprang 
out  of  the  cart.  "  I  could  not  wait  till  evening,  you 
see,"  he  said,  as  he  came  up  the  steps.  "What  is  the 
matter?  Something  has  gone  wrong  with  you." 

She  shivered.  "Yes.  Something.  I  cannot  tell 
you." 

"  Can  we  have  our  ride  to-morrow?  " 
"Yes,  I  can  ride  with  you.     Don't,  d-don't  —  " 
"Yes?" 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  when  you  get  round  there." 
"  I  won't ;  and  I  won't  let  them  talk  to  you." 
Something  has  gone  wrong,  he  thought.     She  looks 
like  a  condemned  criminal. 


XXV 

THE  next  morning  when  Trennahan  rode  up,  Magda- 
lena  was  already  on  her  horse,  and  they  cantered  off 
at  once. 

"I  must  teach  you  to  trot,"  he  said.  "This  is  very 
old-fashioned.  You  must  not  be  behind  your  friends, 
who  would  scorn  to  canter." 

"  Very  well.     You  can  teach  me." 


140  The  Californians 

The  next  half-hour  was  given  up  to  the  lesson. 
Magdale'na  did  not  like  the  new  method,  but  perse 
vered  heroically.  A  half-hour  was  all  she  could  endure, 
and  they  cantered  across  the  meadows  to  the  back 
woods. 

Magdale'na  was  as  pale  as  a  swarthy  person  can  be. 
Her  eyes  were  heavy  and  shadowed. 

"You  did  not  sleep  last  night,"  said  Trennahan, 
abruptly.  "  And  something  had  happened  yesterday 
before  I  came.  What  was  it?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  tell  you.  I  don't  like  to  talk 
about  things  —  about  myself." 

"  Then  let  me  tell  you  that  no  human  being  can  go 
through  life  without  help.  With  all  your  brain  and 
your  natural  reticence,  you  are  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
I  am  much  older  than  you  are.  I  know  a  great  deal 
of  the  world.  You  know  nothing  of  it.  I  can  help 
you  if  you  will  let  me." 

He  was  interested,  and  thought  it  probable  that  her 
trouble  came  from  the  depths  of  her  nature.  Neverthe 
less,  she  was  very  young,  and  he  prayed  that  her  grief 
were  not  the  sequence  of  a  rejected  manuscript. 

Magdale'na  flushed,  then  paled  again.  She  remem 
bered  that  she  had  wanted  to  speak  out  to  him  ;  but 
face  to  face  with  the  prospect,  the  levelling  of  lifelong 
barriers  appalled  her.  If  she  could  only  tell  part  and 
conceal  the  rest !  But  she  was  no  artist  in  words.  She 
drew  a  deep  sigh  and  opened  her  lips,  but  closed  them 
again. 

"  It  will  be  easier  here  in  the  woods,"  he  said,  as 


The  Californians  141 

they  rode  into  the  deep  shade.  "The  world  always 
seems  quite  different  to  me  in  a  wood."  It  did  not 
in  the  least,  but  he  knew  that  it  did  to  her. 

"  I  should  have  to  go  back,"  she  said  finally.  "  I 
cannot  begin  with  yesterday.  And  I  talk  so  badly." 

"The  longer  the  story,  the  more  interested  I  shall 
be.  And  I  like  your  direct  simplicity.  Let  us  walk 
the  horses." 

"When  I  was  a  child  I  was  very  religious,  —  a 
Catholic.  It  was  a  very  great  deal  to  me.  When  I 
prayed  to  the  Virgin  about  my  wants  and  troubles,  I 
felt  quite  happy  and  hopeful.  I  lost  it  a  year  or  two 
ago.  I  had  read  a  great  many  scientific  books ;  and 
my  religion  fell  to  pieces  like  —  like  —  There  was  a 
beautiful  old  tree  on  the  edge  of  the  woods  once.  It 
looked  as  if  it  would  stand  a  century  longer.  One  day 
there  was  a  terrible  wind,  and  it  fell  down.  Its  sap  and 
roots  were  almost  gone.  I  felt  dreadfully  —  about  the 
religion,  I  mean.  I  felt,  somehow,  as  if  my  backbone 
had  been  taken  out.  I  knew  that  one  must  have  some 
sort  of  moral  ideal.  I  thought  a  great  deal,  and  finally 
I  determined  to  make  my  conscience  my  religion.  I 
made  a  resolution  that  I  would  never  do,  and  try  not 
even  to  think,  what  I  believed  to  be  wrong.  When  I 
was  little,  I  followed  Helena  into  a  great  many  of  her 
naughty  escapades,  —  though  nothing  so  bad  as  the  fire, 
—  and  I  did  not  tell  my  parents,  as  a  rule,  because  I 
could  not  see  that  it  did  any  good.  When  my  New 
England  conscience,  as  Helena  calls  it,  got  the  best  of 
me  and  I  confessed  about  the  fire,  the  consequences 


142  The  Californians 

were  so  terrible  that  I  made  up  my  mind  that  1  would 
do  as  I  chose  and  say  nothing  about  it.  I  kept  to  that 
until  I  lost  my  religion.  Then  I  was  careful  about 
every  little  thing.  It  was  easy  enough  for  a  year. 
Then  —  I  don't  think  I  can  go  on." 

"  Then  you  wrote  a  book  and  your  conscience  hurts 
you  because  you  have  not  told  your  parents." 

Magdale"na  dropped  her  reins  and  stared  at  him. 
Had  a  voice  leapt  down  from  heaven,  she  could  not 
have  been  more  dumfounded. 

"  I  never  told  you,"  she  said  helplessly.  "  Can  all 
the  others  know  too?  " 

"  I  am  positive  that  no  one  suspects  but  myself.  Do 
go  on." 

"You  have  guessed  something,  but  not  all.  I  have 
only  begun  a  book ;  and  I  am  so  ignorant,  and  my 
mind  is  so  slow,  that  I  know  it  will  be  years  before  I 
shall  be  able  to  write  a  book  that  anybody  would  read. 
At  first  this  dismayed  me.  Now  I  do  not  care,  so  long 
as  I  succeed  in  the  end ;  and  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to 
see  myself  improve.  I  have  not  thought  it  wrong  not 
to  tell  my  parents,  so  long  as  what  I  did  could  not 
affect  them  in  any  way.  Do  you  not  think  I  was  right 
in  that?" 

"  Assuredly." 

"  I  believed  that  when  I  had  done  something  excel 
lent,  if  that  time  ever  came,  they  would  be  proud  of  it. 
My  mother  was  a  school-teacher,  you  know ;  and  I  did 
not  see  why  my  father  should  care.  He  hates  to  hear 
women  talk,  but  writing  is  different.  At  least  I  thought 


The  Californians  143 

so.  Yesterday,  just  before  you  came,  the  subject  came 
up.  Rose  said  she  believed  I  could  write  a  book,  and 
papa  was  furious  at  the  mere  thought.  I  knew  nothing 
about  old-world  prejudices,  but  it  seems  that  a  lady 
would  be  thought  to  have  disgraced  herself  in  Spain  if 
she  wrote  a  book  :  and  papa  is  as  Spanish  as  if  he  had 
never  learned  a  word  of  English,  although  he  would 
be  ready  to  beat  anyone  that  told  him  so.  He  did 
not  have  a  chance  to  say  much  yesterday ;  but  I  saw 
what  his  ideas  were  and  that  nothing  could  change  them. 
"  I  did  not  go  to  sleep  at  all  last  night.  I  sat  up 
trying  to  think  what  I  should  do.  Of  course  I  need 
not  tell  him  what  I  had  done;  but  should  I  give  it 
up  ?  That  was  the  question.  If  I  continued,  I  must 
tell  him  of  my  intention  to  be  a  writer.  He  would 
forbid  it.  If  I  refused  to  obey,  which  I  do  not  think 
I  have  any  right  to  do,  he  is  quite  capable  of  locking 
me  up.  But  I  cannot  go  on  writing  in  secret.  That 
would  be  a  great  wrong ;  it  would  be  living  a  lie. 
I  could  not  make  myself  believe  that  I  only  wrote  for 
the  pleasure  of  writing  :  I  should  know  that  I  longed 
for  the  time  when  I  should  see  my  book  on  some 
body's  shelf.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  cannot  give  it 
up.  I  have  much  less  in  my  life  than  most  girls. 
In  spite  of  the  hard  work,  I  have  felt  almost  happy 
while  writing.  And  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  as  much 
ambition  as  pride.  But  he  is  my  father.  My  first 
duty  is  to  him  —  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind.  I 
suppose  there  should  be  no  struggle ;  but  there  is,  and 
I  feel  as  if  it  were  killing  me." 


144  The  Californians 

Trennahan  had  been  the  confidant  of  many  women, 
had  listened  to  many  tragic  confessions,  had  seen 
women  in  agonies  of  remorse ;  but  nothing  had  ever 
touched  him  as  did  this  bald  statement,  abrupt  with 
repressed  feeling,  of  a  girl's  solitary  tragedy.  Had 
her  hero  been  a  lover  instead  of  an  art,  he  would 
have  met  her  confidence  with  platitudes  and  a  sup 
pressed  yawn;  but  her  lonely  attitude  in  the  midst 
of  millions  and  friends,  her  terrible  slavery  to  an 
ideal,  to  a  scourging  conscience  which  was  at  war 
with  all  the  secretiveness,  self-indulgence,  and  haughty 
intolerance  of  restraint  which  she  had  inherited 
with  her  father's  blood,  interested  him  even  more 
profoundly  than  it  appealed  to  his  sympathies.  He 
determined  not  only  to  help  her,  but  to  watch  her 
development. 

"  You  have  honoured  me  with  your  confidence,"  he 
said.  "  Don't  doubt  for  a  moment  that  I  do  not 
appreciate  the  magnitude  of  that  honour.  I  know 
just  how  proud  and  reticent  you  are,  how  much  it  cost 
you  to  speak.  I  believe  that  I  have  enough  wisdom 
to  help  you  a  little.  Go  on  with  your  work.  If  you 
have  a  talent,  you  get  it,  one  way  or  another,  from 
your  parents,  and  it  is  as  much  entitled  to  your  con 
sideration  as  your  health  or  your  riches.  The  birth 
right  of  every  mortal  is  happiness.  Some  philosopher 
has  said  that  happiness  is  the  free  exercise  of  the 
higher  faculties  of  a  man's  nature.  If  that  is  your 
instinct,  pursue  it.  Of  course  we  have  no  right  to 
claim  our  happiness  at  the  expense  of  others.  But 


The  Californians  145 

your  father  is  safe  for  the  present.  No  matter  what 
your  talent,  you  will  not  know  enough,  nor  have  had 
sufficient  bare  practice  with  your  pen,  to  write  even 
a  short  story  of  first-rate  merit  for  ten  years  to  come. 
You  may  count  it  a  blessing  that  various  causes  are 
preventing  you  from  rushing  into  print.  At  the  end 
of  that  period  your  father  will  be  ten  years  older.  He 
will  probably  be  much  softened  and  will  look  at  things 
differently ;  or  he  may  be  dead.  Or  you  may  be  — 
and  most  likely  will  be  —  married.  You  need  only 
concern  yourself  with  the  present.  It  is  possible  that 
you  have  discovered  your  only  chance  of  happiness. 
Do  not  commit  the  incredible  folly  of  strangling  that 
chance  before  it  is  born.  This  is  not  my  day  for 
lecturing,  but  I  am  going  to  take  your  conscience  in 
hand.  It  needs  training.  Before  you  know  it,  you 
will  be  morbid.  That  means  brain  rot,  and  no  chance 
of  the  commonest  sort  of  enjoyment." 

"  You  are  very  good ;  no  one  has  ever  been  so 
good.  You  ought  to  know  far  better  than  I  what  is 
right  and  what  is  wrong." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do.  Promise  me  this :  that  you 
will  do  nothing  decisive  until  the  end  of  the  summer. 
Take  that  time  to  think  it  over.  There  will  be  little 
time  to  write  in  any  case.  I  shall  monopolise  a  good 
deal  of  your  time,  and  I  fancy  they  intend  to  be  rather 
gay  here.  Six  months  from  now  we  will  talk  of  it 
again.  Will  you  agree  to  that?  " 

"I  must  think  it  over.  My  mind  is  a  slow  one. 
But  I  think  you  are  right." 


146  The  Californians 

And  several  days  later,  when  he  was  dining  at  the 
house,  she  told  him  briefly  that  she  should  take  his 
advice  and  write  no  more  until  the  summer  was 
past. 


XXVI 

MRS.  YORBA,  who  did  not  like  to  have  her  plans 
made  for  her,  decided  to  give  the  party  on  the  even 
ing  of  Saturday  week.  The  floor  was  to  be  canvased, 
and  three  musicians  were  engaged.  She  promised 
the  girls  that  after  this  initial  party  they  should  dance 
informally  at  Fair  Oaks  as  often  as  they  wished. 

It  was  some  time  before  Magdale'na  rode  alone 
with  Trennahan  again.  The  other  girls  rode  every 
morning  and  claimed  him.  Magdale'na  joined  these 
parties  as  soon  as  her  habit  was  finished,  and  met  him 
every  afternoon  at  one  or  other  of  the  new  tennis 
courts,  which  consisted  merely  of  chalked  lines  and 
a  net,  —  Ila  had  introduced  tennis  to  Menlo,  —  but 
either  Ila  or  Caro  possessed  him  with  the  tentacles 
of  their  kind.  Mrs.  Yorba  had  made  it  understood 
that  her  party  was  to  be  the  first  of  the  season,  so 
the  evenings  alone  were  vacant.  Trennahan  dined 
twice  at  Fair  Oaks,  but  Don  Roberto  and  Mr. 
Polk  claimed  him.  Magdale'na  wondered  if  he  had 
forgotten  his  original  programme.  But  with  four 
handsome  girls  demanding  his  attentions,  a  literary 
friendship  was  doubtless  a  dream  of  the  future.  She 


The  Californians  147 

felt  an  unaccountable  depression,  and  wondered  il 
she  were  going  to  be  ill. 

By  the  time  the  evening  of  the  party  arrived,  the 
nervousness  which  had  assailed  her  when  the  subject 
was  broached  had  been  tempered  by  time  and  constant 
association  with  many  who  would  be  present.  Tiny 
and  the  other  girls  had  promised  to  make  "  things  go." 
There  were  to  be  no  ball  gowns,  and  the  whole  affair 
was  to  be  as  informal  as  possible.  She  even  harboured 
pleasurable  anticipation.  Parties,  she  had  read  and 
heard,  were  brilliant  exhilarating  affairs,  and  she  loved 
dancing  as  only  a  Spanish  woman  can.  In  this,  at 
least,  she  should  excel  her  fellows.  She  had  taken  les 
sons  once  a  week  for  the  last  two  years  from  a  solemn 
and  automatic  person  who  had  rarely  opened  his  lips 
except  to  complain  of  the  heavy  carpets  in  the  cavern 
ous  Yorba  parlours. 

Magdale"na  dressed  immediately  after  dinner;  the 
guests  were  expected  by  nine.  She  wore  her  white 
organdie,  but  fastened  crimson  roses  in  her  hair  and 
belt.  She  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  her  appear 
ance,  —  she  was  too  ardent  an  admirer  of  beauty  for 
that,  —  but  she  knew  that  she  looked  far  better  than 
she  had  on  the  night  of  her  dinner.  She  shuddered 
at  the  memory  of  that  white  ribbon  about  her  swarthy 
throat. 

She  went  downstairs,  and  thought  the  big  rooms 
were  very  inviting  with  their  white  floors;  the  fold 
ing-doors  had  been  rolled  back,  and  the  parlour  and 
dining-room  made  an  immense  sweep.  The  vasc-3 


148  The  Californians 

on  the  mantels  were  full  of  flowers.  In  the  distance 
she  heard  the  tuning  of  a  fiddle. 

The  night  was  hot,  and  all  the  windows  were  open. 
The  dark  grounds  beyond  looked  full  of  mystery,  and 
of  infinite  depth.  She  thought  at  the  moment  that 
there  was  nothing  she  loved  more  than  the  mystery  of 
night  in  the  country.  As  she  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
brilliantly  lighted  room,  the  heavy  darkness  without  out 
lined  with  trees  and  great  shrubs,  the  broken  spaces 
above,  set  with  stars,  allured  her.  Almost  unconsciously 
she  stepped  through  one  of  the  windows,  crossed  the 
verandah  and  drive,  and  entered  the  long  narrow  path 
between  the  lawns.  Here  there  was  more  sense  of 
space,  for  the  lawns  were  very  large  ;  but  the  trees  were 
close  along  their  edge  and  massed  heavily  at  the  end 
of  the  perspective.  Above  was  a  long  banner  of  night 
sky.  The  monotonous  chanting  of  frogs  was  the  only 
sound. 

Certainly,  California  is  a  land  of  beauty  and  peace, 
she  thought.  Mr.  Trennahan  says  he  has  never  known 
anything  like  it,  and  he  has  been  everywhere.  Every 
body  should  be  happy  in  it,  and  I  suppose  every 
one  is,  mostly.  Poets  like  Tennyson  always  make 
weather  to  suit  moods  and  circumstances.  If  they  are 
right,  one  should  laugh  and  be  happy  for  eight  months 
in  the  year  in  California,  and  only  sad  when  it  rains. 
There  does  not  seem  much  chance  for  tragedy,  although 
I  have  heard  that  there  are  many  murders  and  suicides  ; 
but  perhaps  that  is  because  the  towns  are  new  and  ex 
citable.  There  is  nothing  in  the  country  itself  to  make 


The  Californians  149 

one  unhappy,  as  there  must  be  in  other  countries  where 
Nature  has  done  so  little,  and  they  have  so  many  cen 
turies  of  tragic  past  behind  them.  .  .  .  Oh,  dear,  I  am 
struggling  toward  something,  as  usual.  What  is  it? 

She  touched  her  fingers  to  her  forehead,  then  drew 
them  lightly  back  and  forth,  as  if  to  clear  the  mist 
from  her  brain,  the  rust  from  the  wheels.  ...  I  seem  to 
have  seeds  in  my  mind.  Why  don't  they  sprout?  Why 
are  they  for  ever  knocking  at  the  hard  earth  over  their 
heads?  One  would  think  they  were  in  their  graves 
instead  of  never  having  been  born. 

She  sighed  and  shook  her  head,  but  her  thoughts 
ran  on.  Am  I  happy?  I  think  so.  And  all  the  girls 
seem  happy.  Mr.  Trennahan  says  he  watched  the  rest 
of  the  world  rise  into  an  inverted  abyss  of  smoke  when 
the  train  slid  down  the  Sierras,  and  that  his  memory 
has  been  asleep  ever  since.  I  have  been  unhappy  here  ! 
she  continued  abruptly.  And  one  night  I  suffered  — 
suffered  horribly  —  and  this  last  week —  She  stopped 
short,  looking  at  the  beauty  and  peace  about  her  with  a 
feeling  of  sharp  and  swift  resentment.  She  had  a  sense 
of  being  betrayed  by  the  country  of  which  she  was,  far 
more  than  her  mates,  a  part.  She  was  of  its  first 
blood,  the  daughter  of  its  Arcadia,  the  last  living  repre 
sentative  of  all  that  it  had  been  in  the  fulness  of  its 
power.  And  she  knew  California  and  felt  it  as  no  one 
else  did.  That  sense  of  betrayal,  of  personal  treachery, 
passed  as  swiftly  as  it  had  come,  but  seemed  to  mur 
mur  back  that  it  would  come  again,  and  again ;  and 
that  with  each  visit  she  would  understand  it  better. 


150  The  Californians 

I  have  read  somewhere  that  artists  must  suffer  before 
they  can  accomplish  anything,  she  thought.  Well,  I 
should  not  mind,  I  should  not  —  at  least,  I  think  I 
should  not. 

Some  time  since  she  had  come  to  the  end  of  the 
path  and  turned  to  the  right  and  into  a  long  lane  run 
ning  between  fields.  She  sat  down  on  a  stump ;  she 
had  quite  forgotten  the  party.  Her  brain  was  full  of 
struggling  ideas.  But  in  a  few  moments  she  surren 
dered  herself  to  the  spell  of  the  night.  There  were  no 
trees  quite  near  her,  nothing  but  level  fields  thick  with 
grain.  Far  to  the  left  and  curving  a  mile  behind  her 
was  the  black  outline  of  the  woods.  Far  behind  them 
were  the  towering  mountains  with  their  forests  of  red 
woods  ;  those  on  the  crest  sharp  against  the  stars. 
California  was  a  new  country.  It  might  have  been 
newer,  so  vast  was  its  silence,  so  primeval  its 
peace. 

Oh,  I  am  sure  I  am  happy,  thought  Magdalena,  sud 
denly.  Yes,  I  am  sure.  But  I  wish  I  might  never  see 
anyone  again.  California  is  faultless ;  it  is  civilisation 
that  has  spoilt  her. 

She  was  stumbling  close  upon  great  truths ;  but  it  was 
part  of  her  inheritance  that  she  had  no  perception  of 
what  she  was  groping  for,  and  passed  almost  unheeding 
the  little  that  came  to  her. 

"  Miss  Yorba,  are  you  cultivating  a  reputation  for 
eccentricity?  " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet.  Trennahan  was  approach 
ing  her.  He  was  in  evening  dress,  without  a  hat. 


The  Californians  151 

His  expression  was  one  of  extreme  amusement,  and 
Magdalena  felt  the  blood  in  her  face. 

"  Have  they  come?  "  she  asked  in  dismay. 

"  They  are  dancing,  or  were  about  to  begin  as  your 
mother  sent  me  to  look  for  you." 

"I  had  forgotten  —  " 

"  I  was  sure  you  had.  Miss  Brannan  insisted  that 
you  were  hiding,  but  I  had  no  doubt  that  you  had 
wandered  off  in  a  reverie."  He  laughed.  "  Happy 
you  !  "  he  said.  "  Happy  you  !  " 

"  You  think  I  am  an  idiot." 

"  Indeed  I  do  not.  I  feel  sorry  to  think  that  in 
a  year  from  now  such  a  thing  will  no  longer  be  pos 
sible.  But  we  must  go  back,  or  they  will  be  sending 
someone  to  look  for  us." 

"  Is  papa  angry?" 

"  I  don't  think  he  noticed.  Miss  Montgomery  and 
Miss  Brannan  were  using  all  their  blandishments  to 
make  him  think  the  party  as  interesting  as  themselves ; 
and  I  am  positive  they  were  succeeding." 

When  they  reached  the  house,  the  quadrille  which 
had  opened  the  party  was  finishing.  Don  Roberto 
was  making  a  sweeping  bow  to  Tiny,  whose  face  wore 
an  inscrutable  expression.  Magdalena  was  about  to 
step  through  the  window,  but  Trennahan  guided  her 
to  the  door,  and  they  entered  the  room  without  attract 
ing  attention.  There  were  some  forty  people  present. 
With  the  exception  of  the  Yorbas,  everybody  had 
house  guests.  Mrs.  Yorba  sat  in  a  corner  with  a  small 
group  of  elderly  ladies.  Mr.  Polk  stood  before  the 


152  The  Californians 

fireplace  in  the  parlour,  his  legs  well  apart,  staring 
absently  at  the  young  people,  who  looked  gay  and 
content. 

"What  am  I  to  do?"  asked  Magdal£na,  helplessly. 

"  Nothing,  just  now,  as  there  are  no  wall-flowers. 
In  a  moment  one  of  these  youths  will  ask  you  to 
dance,  and  of  course  you  will  consent.  It  is  my 
misfortune  that  I  no  longer  dance.  I  think  your 
fate  approaches." 

A  young  man  with  a  rather  bright  face  came  toward 
her.  His  name  was  Payne.  She  had  met  him  at  the 
Montgomerys. 

"May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  the  first  waltz,  Miss 
Yorba?"  he  asked.  "I  am  told  that  it  will  be  a 
unique  pleasure,  —  that  you  can  talk  science  and  waltz 
in  the  same  breath,  as  it  were." 

He  did  not  speak  in  sarcasm,  merely  in  facetious- 
ness.  He  was  a  type  of  the  fresh  young  San  Fran 
ciscan  whose  ways  are  not  as  all  ways.  Magdalena 
looked  at  him  in  sombre  anger  and  made  no  reply. 
He  saw  that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  reddened, 
wondering  why  on  earth  she  were  in  society  at  all, 
if  she  could  not  be  like  other  girls.  Magdalena  did 
not  appreciate  his  natural  indignation ;  but  she  saw 
that  he  was  miserable,  and  relented. 

"  I  will  waltz  with  you  if  you  wish,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Psyne  bowed  stiffly  and  offered  his  arm.  They 
walked  the  length  of  the  two  rooms  in  utter  silence ; 
then  the  musicians  played  the  opening  bars  of  a  waltz. 
Magdalena  remembered  that  this  would  be  her  first 


The  Californians  153 

waltz  with  any  man,  barring  the  teacher  who  had 
solemnly  piloted  her  up  and  down  the  parlours  in 
town.  She  had  hoped  much  from  her  first  dance ; 
and  she  was  to  have  it  with  this  silly  overgrown  boy. 
It  was  a  minor  disappointment,  but  sharp  while  it 
lasted. 

"  Shall  we  begin  ? "  he  asked  formally.  He  was 
sulky,  and  eager  to  have  it  over.  Two  or  three  of 
his  friends  had  flashed  him  glances  of  ironical  sym 
pathy,  and  he  was  too  young  to  bear  ridicule  with 
fortitude. 

Ila  was  floating  down  the  room  with  Alan  Rush,  a 
young  South  American,  as  graceful  of  foot  and  bearing 
as  herself.  Magdalena  forgot  her  partner  and  gazed 
at  them  with  genuine  delight.  She  had  read  of  the 
poetry  of  motion,  and  this  illustration  appealed  to 
the  passion  for  beauty  which  was  strong  in  her  nature. 

She  turned  to  her  partner.  "Do  they  not  dance 
beautifully?"  she  exclaimed.  That  much-enduring 
youth  replied  that  they  did,  and  asked  her  again  if 
she  were  ready.  She  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder 
and  they  started.  Magdalena  realised  at  once  that 
her  partner  was  an  excellent  dancer,  and  that  she  was 
not.  She  felt  that  she  was  heavy,  and  marvelled  at 
the  lightness  of  Ila  and  Rose.  They  seemed  barely 
to  touch  the  floor,  and  were  laughing  and  chatting  as 
naturally  as  if  they  had  no  feet  to  guide. 

"Could  you  take  a  little  longer  step?"  asked  Mr. 
Payne,  politely.  "I  —  I  —  beg  pardon  for  suggesting 
it,  but  it 's  the  fashion  just  now.  That 's  right  —  a  little 


154  The  Californians 

longer.  Oh,  I  —  I  —  am  afraid  that  your  feet  are  too 
small.  Shall  we  sit  down  a  moment?  " 

They  sat  down  in  the  recess,  and  Payne  wiped  his 
brow.  "It  is  so  warm,"  he  muttered  apologetically. 

"  Mr.  Rush  does  not  look  warm,"  she  said  cruelly. 

He  repressed  the  obvious  reply,  but  made  no  other. 
In  a  moment  he  asked  her  if  she  cared  to  finish  the  waltz. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  I  do  not.  You  may  go  and 
finish  it  with  someone  else,  if  you  like." 

He  moved  off  with  alacrity,  and  Magdal^na  sat 
alone  for  some  moments  feeling  very  miserable.  What 
was  the  matter  with  her?  Could  she  do  nothing  well? 
And  she  should  be  a  wall-flower  for  the  rest  of  the 
evening,  of  course.  That  wretched  man  would  tell 
everybody  how  badly  she  danced. 

But  she  had  forgotten  that  she  was  hostess.  A 
moment  after  the  waltz  ended,  three  young  men  came 
over  to  her  and  begged  for  the  honour  of  her  hand. 
They  were  Rollins,  the  sharp-faced  Fort,  and  Alan 
Rush.  She  gave  the  dance  to  follow  to  Rush,  and 
the  others,  having  inscribed  her  name  on  their  cuffs, 
moved  off.  Rush  sat  down  beside  her.  He  had  a 
frank  kind  face,  and  the  beauty  of  his  figure  and  the 
grace  of  his  carriage  had  given  him  a  reputation  for 
good  looks  which  had  reached  even  Magdale"na's  ears. 
He  was  at  that  time  the  most  popular  young  man  in 
San  Francisco  society.  Magdale"na  decided  that  she 
liked  him  better  than  anyone  she  had  met  except 
Trennahan.  His  voice  was  rich  and  Southern,  although 
he  had  no  Spanish  blood  in  him. 


The  Californians 

"  I  watched  you  dance,"  said  Magdalena,  abruptly. 
"  I  don't  dance  well  enough  for  you." 

"  Dancing  is  all  a  matter  of  habit,"  he  said  kindly. 
"  This  is  my  third  year.  You  have  no  idea  how  awk 
ward  I  was  when  I  began.  I  am  sure  you  will  be 
the  best  dancer  in  society  next  winter  —  with  all  those 
Spanish  grandmothers." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  She  liked  him  almost  as 
well  as  Trennahan  for  the  moment. 

He  did  not,  for  he  had  noted  that  she  was  lacking 
in  natural  grace ;  but  he  was  chivalrous,  and  he  saw 
that  she  was  discouraged. 

"  There  's  the  music,"  he  said.  "  Suppose  we  go 
out  in  the  hall  by  ourselves,  and  I  will  give  you  a  little 
lesson.  No?" 

Magdalena  was  delighted,  but  she  merely  stood  up 
in  her  unbending  dignity  and  said  that  she  was  glad  to 
take  advantage  of  his  kindness. 

He  was  a  man  who  danced  so  well  that  he  com 
pelled  some  measure  of  facility  in  his  partner.  Magda- 
l£na  felt  inspired  at  once,  and  carefully  obeyed  every 
instruction. 

"We  will  have  a  great  many  other  lessons,  no?" 
he  said  as  the  music  finished.  "By  the  time  that 
famous  coming-out  party  of  yours  comes  off,  you  will 
be  in  great  form." 

"  Will  you  open  it  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,  and  to  help  you  all  I  can." 
They  were  walking  down  the  hall,  and  he  was  bending 
over  her  with  an  air  of  devotion  which  she  thought 


156  The  Californians 

very  pleasant.  His  accomplished  eyes  appealed  to 
the  instinct  of  coquetry,  buried  deep  in  the  seriousness 
of  her  nature,  and  she  smiled  upon  him  and  found 
herself  talking  with  some  ease. 

She  danced  with  all  the  young  men,  but  they  bored 
her  as  much  as  she  felt  that  she  bored  them.  All  the 
girls  danced  with  her  father,  and  he  seemed  amiable 
and  pleased,  especially  when  Tiny  was  smiling  upon 
him.  Ila,  despite  her  elegance  and  refinement,  sug 
gested  the  ladies  of  his  leisure,  Rose  had  too  sharp  a 
tongue,  and  Caro  had  an  exaggerated  innocence  of 
manner  and  eye  which  experience  had  led  him  to 
distrust.  But  Tiny,  beautiful,  cool,  and  remote,  re 
minded  him  of  the  women  of  his  youth,  when  he  was 
a  man  of  enthusiasms,  ideals,  and  dreams. 

Mr.  Polk  spent  the  evening  wandering  about  alone 
or  staring  from  the  hearth-rug.  One  or  two  of  the 
girls  asked  him  to  dance,  but  he  refused  brusquely. 
It  was  the  first  dance  he  had  attended  since  the  one 
given  by  Thomas  Larkin  to  celebrate  the  Occupation 
of  California  by  the  United  States. 

The  party  broke  up  a  little  after  twelve,  and  all 
assured  Magdale"na  that  the  party  had  been  a  success 
with  such  emphasis  that  she  was  convinced  that  it  had 
been  ;  but  when  she  was  in  bed  and  the  light  out,  she 
cried  bitterly. 


The  Californians  157 


XXVII 

THERE  were  no  engagements  for  the  following  morn 
ing,  and  Magdale"na  was  sitting  idly  on  the  verandah 
when  she  saw  Trennahan  sauntering  up  the  drive. 
The  blood  flew  through  her  veins,  lifting  the  weight 
from  her  brain.  But  she  repressed  the  quick  smile, 
and  sat  still  and  erect  until  he  reached  the  carriage 
block,  when  she  went  to  the  head  of  the  steps  to  meet 
him. 

"  Put  on  your  hat,"  he  said,  "  and  let  us  hide  in 
the  woods  before  somebody  comes  to  take  us  for  a 
drive  or  to  invite  us  to  luncheon.  I  have  n't  forgotten 
our  private  plans,  if  you  have." 

"  I  had  not  forgotten,  but  Tiny  and  Ha  manage 
everything.  I  don't  like  to  refuse  when  they  are  so 
kind." 

"  You  must  develop  a  faculty  —  or  no,  leave  it  to 
me.  I  shall  gradually  but  firmly  insist  upon  having  a 
day  or  two  a  week  to  myself;  and  Miss  Geary  informs 
me  that  such  unprecedented  energy  can  never  last  in 
this  Vale  of  Sleep  ;  that  before  a  month  is  over  we  shall 
all  have  settled  down  to  a  chronic  state  of  somno 
lence  from  which  we  shall  awaken  from  Saturday  till 
Monday  only.  Then,  indeed,  will  Menlo  be  the  ideal 
spot  of  which  I  dreamed  while  you  left  me  to  myself 
on  that  long  day  of  my  visit." 

Her  hat  was  in  the  hall.     She  put  it  on  hastily  back 


158  The  Californians 

foremost,  and  they  walked  toward  the  woods.  Sud 
denly  she  turned  into  a  side  path. 

"  Let  us  walk  through  the  orchard,"  she  said. 
"Then  we  shall  not  meet  anyone." 

The  cherries  were  gone ;  but  the  yellow  apricots,  the 
golden  pears,  the  red  peaches  and  nectarines,  the 
pur-pie  plums,  hung  heavy  among  the  abundant  green, 
or  rotted  on  the  ground.  Several  poor  children  were 
stealing  frankly,  filling  sacks  almost  as  large  as  them 
selves.  Don  Roberto  had  never  so  far  unbent  as  to 
give  the  village  people  permission  to  remove  the 
superfluity  of  his  orchard,  but  he  winked  at  their 
depredations,  as  they  saved  him  the  expense  of  having 
it  carted  away ;  his  economical  graft  had  never  been 
able  to  overcome  his  haughty  aversion  to  selling  the 
produce  of  his  private  estate.  Magdale"na  often  came 
to  the  orchard  to  talk  to  these  children :  the  poor 
fascinated  her,  and  she  liked  to  feel  that  she  was  help 
ing  them  with  words  and  dimes;  but  they  were  not 
as  the  poor  of  whom  she  had  read,  nor  yet  of  the  fire. 
They  were  tow-headed  and  soiled  of  face,  but  they 
wore  stout  boots  and  well-made  calico  frocks,  and 
they  were  not  without  dimes  of  their  own. 

"  Does  California  seem  a  little  unreal  to  you?"  she 
asked.  "  I  mean,  there  are  no  great  contrasts.  The 
poverty  of  London  must  be  frightful." 

"  You  ungrateful  person,  for  Heaven's  sake  reap  the 
advantage  of  your  birthright  and  forget  the  countries 
that  are  not  California." 

They  passed  out  of  the  back  gate  and  entered  the 


The  Californians  159 

middle  woods.  Magdale"na  without  hesitation  led  the 
way  to  the  retreat  hitherto  sacred  to  Art.  Trennahan 
need  not  have  apprehended  that  she  would  inflict  him 
with  her  manuscript,  nor  with  hopes  and  fears  :  she 
was  much  too  shy  to  mention  the  subject  unless  he 
drew  her  deliberately ;  but  she  liked  the  idea  of  asso 
ciating  him  with  this  leafy  and  sacred  temple. 

He  threw  himself  on  his  back  at  once,  clasping  his 
hands  under  his  head  and  gazing  up  into  the  rustling 
storeys  above.  About  his  ears  was  a  low  persistent 
hum,  a  vibration  of  a  sound  of  many  parts.  Above 
were  only  the  intense  silences  of  a  hot  California 
morning. 

Trennahan  forgot  Magdalena  for  the  moment.  He 
felt  young  again  and  very  content.  His  restless  tem 
perament,  fed  with  the  infinite  varieties  of  Europe,  had 
seldom  given  way  to  the  pleasures  of  indolence.  Even 
satiety  had  not  meant  rest.  But  California  —  as  dis 
tinct  from  San  Francisco  —  with  her  traditions  of  luxu 
rious  idleness,  the  low  languid  murmur  of  her  woods, 
her  soft  voluptuous  air,  her  remoteness  from  the  shriek 
ing  nerve  centres  of  the  United  States,  the  sublime 
indifference  of  her  people  to  the  racing  hours,  drew  so 
many  quiet  fingers  across  his  tired  brain,  half  obliter 
ating  deep  and  ugly  impressions,  giving  him  back 
something  of  the  sense  of  youth  and  future.  Perhaps 
he  dimly  appreciated  that  California  is  a  hell  for  the 
ambitious  ;  he  knew  that  it  was  the  antechamber  of  a 
possible  heaven  to  the  man  who  had  lived  his  life. 

He  turned  suddenly  and  regarded  Magdale"na,  won- 


160  The  Californians 

dering  how  much  she  had  to  do  with  his  regeneration, 
if  regeneration  it  were,  and  concluded  that  she  was 
merely  a  part  of  California  the  whole.  But  she  was  a 
part  as  was  no  other  woman  he  had  met. 

She  had  clasped  her  hands  about  her  knees  and  was 
staring  straight  before  her.  Trennahan,  in  a  rare  flash 
of  insight,  saw  the  soul  of  the  girl,  its  potentialities, 
its  beauty,  struggling  through  the  deep  mists  of 
reserve. 

"  I  could  love  her,"  he  thought ;  "  and  more,  and 
differently,  than  I  have  loved  any  other  woman." 

He  determined  in  that  moment  to  marry  her.  As 
soon  as  he  had  made  his  decision,  he  had  a  sense  of 
buoyancy,  almost  of  happiness,  but  no  rejuvenation 
could  destroy  his  epicureanism ;  he  determined  that 
the  slow  awakening  of  her  nature,  of  revealing  her  to 
herself,  should  be  a  part  of  the  happiness  he  promised 
himself.  He  was  proud  that  he  could  love  the  soul  of  a 
woman,  that  he  had  found  his  way  to  that  soul  through 
an  unbeautiful  envelope,  that  so  far  there  was  not 
a  flutter  of  sense.  He  was  to  love  in  a  new  way,  which 
should,  by  exquisite  stages,  blend  with  the  old.  There 
could  be  no  surprises,  no  enigmatic  delights,  but 
vicariously  he  could  be  young  again.  Then  he  won 
dered  if  he  were  a  vampire  feeding  on  the  youth  of 
another.  For  a  moment  he  faced  his  soul  in  horrified 
wonder,  then  reasoned  that  he  was  little  past  his  me 
ridian  in  years ;  that  a  man's  will,  if  favoured  by  Cir 
cumstance,  can  do  much  of  razing  and  rebuilding  with 
the  inner  life.  No,  he  concluded  with  healthy  disgust, 


The  Californians  161 

he  was  not  that  most  sickening  tribute  to  lechery,  an 
old  vein  yawning  for  transfusion.  He  was  merely  a 
man  ready  to  begin  life  again  before  it  was  too  late. 
This  girl  had  not  the  beauty  he  had  demanded  as  his 
prerogative  in  woman,  but  she  had  individuality,  brains, 
and  all  womanliness.  Her  shyness  and  pride  were  her 
greatest  charms  to  him  :  he  would  be  the  first  and  the 
last  to  get  behind  the  barriers.  Such  women  loved 
only  once. 

She  turned  her  head  suddenly  and  met  his  eyes. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  have  been  wondering  what  that  huge  pile  is 
behind  you." 

"  That  is  a  wood-rat's  nest." 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid  of  him  ?  Extraordinary 
woman  !  " 

"  He  is  much  more  afraid  of  me.  I  am  very  afraid 
of  house-rats." 

"  And  you  sit  here  often  ?  You  are  not  afraid  of 
snakes? " 

"  There  are  none  in  these  woods.  They  always  re 
treat  before  people  —  civilisation.  Everyone  drives 
through  here,  but  scarcely  anyone  goes  through  the 
back  woods ;  the  roads  are  so  bad  —  " 

"  Hush  !  " 

The  sound  of  wheels,  faint  for  a  moment,  grew  more 
distinct;  with  it  mingled  the  sound  of  voices.  A 
heavy  char-a-banc  rolled  by,  and  the  words  of  Tiny  and 
Ila  came  distinctly  to  the  two  in  hiding. 

"  They  will  have  a  long  and  fruitless  search,"  said 


1 62  The  Californians 

Trennahan,  contentedly.  "  We  are  going  to  stay  here 
and  become  acquainted." 

And  they  did  not  move  for  two  hours.  For  a 
time  Trennahan  made  her  talk,  learning  almost  all 
there  was  to  know.  He  even  drew  forth  the  tattered 
shreds  of  the  caballero,  who  had  been  little  more  than 
a  matter  of  garments,  and  a  confession  of  her  long 
and  passionate  desire  to  be  beautiful.  The  story 
ended  with  the  lonely  and  terrible  surrender  of  her 
religion.  He  was  profoundly  interested.  Once  or 
twice  he  was  appalled.  Did  he  take  this  woman,  he 
must  assume  responsibility  for  every  part  of  her.  She 
was  so  wholly  without  egoism  that  she  would  give  her 
self  up  without  reservation  and  expect  him  to  guide 
her.  That  would  be  all  very  well  with  the  ordinary 
woman ;  but  with  a  nature  of  high  ideals,  and  possibly 
of  transcendent  passions, — was  he  equal  to  the  task? 
But  in  his  present  mood  the  prospect  fascinated  him. 
One  of  her  slim  hands,  dark  but  pretty,  lay  near  his 
own.  He  wanted  to  take  it  in  his,  but  did  not :  he 
wished  to  keep  her  unself-conscious  as  long  as  possible. 

He  tried  to  talk  to  her  about  himself,  but  found  it 
hard  to  avoid  the  claptrap  with  which  a  man  of  the 
world  attempts  to  awaken  interest  in  woman.  He  had 
always  done  it  artistically  :  the  weariness,  the  satiety, 
the  mental  grasp  of  nothingness, — these  had  been 
ever  revealed  in  flashing  glimpses,  in  unwilling  allusive- 
ness  ;  the  hope  that  he  had  finally  stumbled  upon  the 
one  woman  sketched  with  a  brush  dipped  in  mist. 
But  feeling  himself  sincere  for  the  first  time  in  incal- 


The  Californians  163 

culable  years,  he  dismissed  the  tempered  weapons  of 
his  victories  with  contempt,  and,  not  knowing  what 
others  to  substitute,  talked  of  his  boyhood  and  college 
days.  As  a  result,  he  felt  younger  than  ever,  and 
closer  to  the  girl  who  was  part  of  the  mystery  that 
had  taken  him  to  her  heart. 


XXVIII 

A  WOMAN'S  heart  may  be  said  to  resemble  a  subter 
ranean  cavern  to  which  communication  is  had  by 
means  of  a  trap-door.  How  the  lover  enters  this 
guarded  precinct  depends  upon  the  lover  and  the 
woman.  Sometimes  the  trap-door  is  jerked  open,  and 
he  is  hurled  down  with  no  by  your  leave,  gobbled  up, 
willing  or  unwilling.  Sometimes  there  is  a  desperate 
fight  just  over  the  trap-door,  in  which  he  does  some 
times,  but  not  always,  come  off  victor.  At  other  times 
he  suddenly  finds  himself  rambling  through  those  laby 
rinthine  passages,  to  his  surprise  and  that  of  the 
woman,  who,  however,  perceives  him  instantly.  There 
is  no  such  fallacy  as  that  a  girl  turns  in  terror  or  in 
any  other  sentiment  from  the  knowledge  of  this  dweller 
below  the  trap-door.  A  woman  of  experience  may, 
after  that  first  glimpse  :  she  may,  in  fact,  bolt  the 
trap-door  yet  more  tightly  and  sit  herself  upon  it. 
But  a  girl  uses  it  as  a  frame  for  her  face  and  watches 
every  movement  of  the  occupant  with  neither  fear  nor 
foreboding  until  occasion  comes,  —  hanging  the  halls 


164  The  Californians 

with  the  tapestry  of  dreams,  fitting  the  end  of  each 
rose-hued  scented  gallery  with  the  magic  mirror  of 
the  future. 

Magdale"na,  at  the  end  of  that  morning  in  the  woods, 
was  quite  aware  that  she  was  in  love.  She  wondered 
why  she  had  not  thought  of  it  before,  and  concluded 
that  in  the  prelude  she  had  been  merely  fascinated  by 
the  first  enthralling  man  she  had  known.  The  trap 
door  of  her  heart  was  not  jealously  guarded ;  never 
theless,  it  was  not  yawning  for  an  occupant.  Just  how 
and  when  Trennahan  slipped  in,  she  could  not  have 
told,  but  there  he  certainly  was,  and  there  he  would 
stay  so  long  as  life  was  in  her. 

He  went  home  with  her  to  luncheon,  and  she  longed 
to  have  him  go,  that  she  might  be  alone  with  the 
thought  of  him.  He  left  early  in  the  afternoon,  and 
she  locked  herself  in  her  room  and  sat  for  hours  star 
ing  into  the  tree-tops  swimming  in  their  blue  haze. 
She  was  not  in  the  least  terrified  at  the  beginnings 
of  tumult  within  her;  she  rather  welcomed  them  as 
the  birthright  of  her  sex.  In  this  first  stage,  she  hardly 
cared  whether  Trennahan  were  in  love  with  her  or  not, 
having  none  of  the  instinct  of  the  huntress  and  her 
imagination  being  a  slow  one.  It  was  enough  that 
she  should  see  him  for  many  hours  alone  during  this 
dreamy  exquisite  summer,  that  she  should  look  con 
stantly  into  the  cold  eyes  that  had  their  own  power 
to  thrill.  That  he  was  not  the  orthodox  lover  in 
appearance,  manner,  nor  age  pleased  her  the  better. 
She  was  not  like  other  girls,  therefore  it  was  fitting 


The  Californians  165 

that  she  should  find  her  mate  among  the  odd  ones 
of  earth.  That  there  might  be  others  like  him  in 
the  great  world  whence  he  came,  that  he  might  have 
loved  and  been  loved  by  women  of  the  world,  never 
occurred  to  her.  She  was  content,  having  found  her 
other  part,  and  wove  no  histories  of  the  past  nor 
future. 

But  as  the  weeks  went  on  and  their  intimacy  grew, 
she  accepted  the  fact  that  he  loved  her  before  the 
disposition  to  speculate  had  arrived  in  the  wake 
of  love.  During  the  hours  that  they  spent  rambling 
through  the  woods,  or  in  whatever  fashion  pleased  their 
mood,  although  he  did  not  startle  her  by  definite  word  or 
act,  he  managed  to  convey  that  their  future  was  assured, 
that  she  was  his,  and  that  in  his  own  time  he  should 
claim  her.  By  the  time  this  dawn  broke,  her  imagina 
tion  was  beating  at  its  flood-gates,  and  shortly  broke 
loose.  Thereafter  when  she  was  not  with  Trennahan 
in  the  present,  she  was  his  in  a  future  built  on  the 
foundations  of  all  she  had  read  and  all  that  instinct 
taught  her.  She  had  no  wish  that  the  present  should 
change ;  it  was  enough  that  it  suggested  the  inevitable 
future.  She  was  happy,  and  she  knew  that  Trennahan 
was  happy. 

Meanwhile  they  escaped  the  others  and  rode  to 
gether  before  breakfast,  read  together  after,  explored 
every  corner  of  the  woods,  and  talked  of  many  of  the 
things  under  heaven.  Magdalena,  except  for  an  occa 
sional  flutter  of  eyelid  or  leap  of  colour,  confessed 
nothing  :  her  pride  was  a  supple  armour  that  she  laced 


1 66  The  Californians 

tightly  above  her  heart;  but  Trennahan's  very  self 
lifted  the  trap-door  and  looked  to  him  through  her 
eyes,  and  he  had  no  misgivings.  Sometimes  he  awak 
ened  suddenly  in  the  night  and  gave  a  quick,  short 
laugh  :  he  was  so  new  to  himself.  But  he  knew  that 
he  had  found  something  very  like  true  happiness,  and 
he  was  loving  her  very  deeply.  At  first  he  had  been 
pricked  by  the  apprehension  that  it  could  not  last ; 
that  nature  had  constructed  him  to  move  upon  the 
lower  planes ;  that  a  prolonged  tour  on  the  heights 
would  result  in  disastrous  and  possibly  hideous  reac 
tion  :  his  time-worn  habits  of  loving  had  been  of  woof 
and  make  so  different.  But  as  time  passed  and  the 
light  in  his  spirit  spread  until  it  dazzled  his  eyes  and 
consumed  his  memories,  as  the  sense  of  regeneration 
grew  stronger,  as  the  future  beckoned  alluringly,  as 
he  forgot  to  remember  whether  Magdal£na  were  plain 
or  beautiful,  as  peace  and  content  and  happiness  pos 
sessed  him,  —  he  ceased  to  question  his  immutability. 
He  had  lived  in  the  world  for  forty  years,  and  it  was 
like  an  old  bottle  of  scent  long  uncorked.  The  ideals 
of  his  youth  had  not  changed  ;  they  had  gone.  Beau 
tiful  women  had  turned  to  gall  on  his  tongue,  shrunken 
to  their  skeletons  in  his  weary  eyes.  Fate  had  steered 
his  bark  in  the  open  sea  of  bachelorhood  until  he  was 
old  enough  and  wise  enough  to  choose  his  mate  with 
his  soul  and  his  brain,  and  Fate  had  steered  him  to 
Magdal£na.  He  was  profoundly  thankful. 

Their  intimacy  attracted  little   attention  in   Menlo 
Park,  for  the  reason  that  it  was  confined  within  the 


The  Californians  167 

wooded  limits  of  Fair  Oaks.  When  they  rode  and  drove 
with  the  others  and  attended  dinners  and  dances,  they 
kept  apart.  As  Rose  had  predicted,  gaieties  were 
sporadic,  although  the  young  people  met  somewhere, 
usually  at  the  Yorbas',  every  Saturday  evening;  what 
others  did  during  the  long  hot  days  when  there  was  no 
company  to  entertain,  concerned  no  one.  Occasionally 
one  of  Don  Roberto's  huge  farm  waggons,  as  deep  as  a 
tall  man's  height,  was  filled  with  hay,  and  young  Menlo 
Park  jolted  slowly  to  the  hills.  They  ate  their  luncheon 
by  cool  streams  dark  with  meeting  willows,  and  poked 
at  the  tadpoles,  gathered  wild  roses,  killed,  perhaps,  a 
snake  or  two.  Then,  toward  evening,  they  jolted  home 
again,  hot,  dusty,  and  weary,  but  supremely  content  in 
having  lived  up  to  the  traditions  of  Menlo  Park.  Tiny 
alone  came  out  triumphant  on  these  trying  occasions. 
Dressed  in  cool  white,  she  seated  her  diminutive  self 
in  the  very  middle  of  the  haystack  and  talked  little. 
The  others,  undaunted  by  the  sun,  started  in  high 
spirits,  flirted  with  energy,  and  changed  their  positions 
many  times.  Upon  the  return  journey,  Tiny,  again, 'sat 
serene  and  white ;  the  rest  dangled  over  the  sides  as  a 
last  relief  for  aching  limbs  and  backs,  and  forgot  the 
very  alphabet  of  flirtation.  It  is  true  that  Magdale"na 
did  not  flirt ;  but  she  worked  hard  to  keep  her  guests 
pleased  and  comfortable,  and  usually  went  to  bed  with 
a  headache. 


1 68  The  Californians 


XXIX 

IT  was  Tiny  who  discovered  that  it  was  leap  year,  and 
invited  Menlo  to  dance  at  her  house  one  Saturday 
night  and  take  all  advantage  of  its  privileges.  Mrs. 
Yorba  consented  that  Magdalena  should  have  a  new 
frock,  the  organdie  being  in  a  condition  for  a  maid  to 
sniff  at.  Magdalena  asserted  herself,  and  ordered  a 
scarlet  tarlatan.  The  frock  was  smartly  made  at  a 
good  house,  and  Magdale"na,  on  the  night  of  the  party, 
was  almost  pleased  with  herself.  The  vivid  colour 
slanted  under  her  swarthy  skin.  She  wore  red  slip 
pers  and  red  roses  in  her  hair.  By  this  time  she 
knew  something  of  dress,  —  it  was  October,  —  and  she 
had  also  discovered  that  red  was  Trennahan's  favourite 
colour. 

She  was  happy,  but  a  little  nervous.  There  had 
been  more  than  one  sign  of  late  that  the  pretty  comedy 
of  friendship  had  run  its  course.  The  very  words  they 
uttered  had  lost  their  clear-cut  black  and  white, 
seemed  to  grow  more  full-blooded.  His  eyes  had 
made  her  lose  her  breath  more  than  once,  had  even 
sharpened  her  wits  to  hasty  subterfuge. 

The  Montgomery  parlour  was  a  narrow  room  at 
right  angles  with  the  dining-room.  The  two  rooms 
had  been  thrown  into  one  and  canvased. 

Tiny  invited  Don  Roberto  to  open  the  dance  with 
her,  and  that  platonically  enamoured  gentleman  con 
sented  with  a  grand  flourish.  Ila  exercised  her  blan- 


The  Californians  169 

dishments  upon  Mr.  Polk,  but  to  no  purpose.  No  one 
could  understand  his  constant  attendance  at  these 
dances,  for  he  merely  stood  about  with  unrelaxing 
visage,  scarcely  exchanging  a  word  with  even  the  older 
men.  He  wore  the  suit  of  evening  clothes  which  had 
done  duty  at  men's  dinners  these  fifteen  years,  and 
had  bought  a  pair  of  evening  shoes  and  a  white 
necktie.  Eugene  Fort  remarked  that  he  looked  like  a 
man  whose  vital  organs  had  turned  to  gold  and  were 
giving  him  trouble.  Mr.  Washington  replied  that  the 
tight  skin  which  had  done  such  good  service  was  cer 
tainly  beginning  to  bag,  and  that  if  he  did  n't  knock 
off  and  take  a  vacation  in  Europe  he  'd  find  himself 
breaking. 

"To  my  knowledge,"  he  added,  "he  hasn't  taken  a 
vacation  in  thirty  years ;  has  n't  even  been  to  Yosemite 
or  the  Big  Trees.  He  has  always  said  that  work  was 
his  tonic ;  but  the  truth  was  that  he  feared  to  come 
home  and  find  a  dollar  unaccounted  for,  —  neither 
more  nor  less.  And  there  comes  a  time,  my  dear 
young  man,  there  comes  a  time  — " 

"  It  comes  early  in  this  State." 

"  It  does,"  Mr.  Washington  replied,  with  a  sigh  and 
a  glance  at  his  young  wife.  "  But  the  fevers  have  raged 
themselves  out  here,  or  I  am  much  mistaken.  We  're 
in  for  quiet  times.  The  next  generation  will  live 
longer,  perhaps." 

"How  old  is  Polk?" 

"  Nearly  sixty.  He 's  worn  better  than  many,  be 
cause  he  's  let  whiskey  alone  ;  never  took  a  drop  more 


170  The  Califbrnians 

than  was  good  for  him  when  Con.  Virginia  was  tumbling 
from  seven  hundred  to  nothing.  Neither  did  Yorba, 
who  is  several  years  older ;  but  he  's  got  the  longevity 
of  his  race.  Jack  Belmont  is  under  fifty,  and  looks 
older  than  either,  —  when  you  get  him  in  a  good  light. 
California  is  all  right,  and  whiskey  is  all  right,  but  the 
two  together  play  the  devil  and  no  mistake." 

"  It  is  the  last  place  where  I  should  want  whiskey," 
said  Trennahan,  who  had  joined  them. 

"  You  were  n't  here  half  a  dozen  years  ago.  While 
the  Virginia  City  mines  were  booming,  your  backbone 
felt  like  a  streak  of  lightning ;  you  had  n't  a  comma 
in  your  very  thoughts ;  you  woke  up  every  morning 
in  a  cold  sweat,  and  your  teeth  chattered  as  you  opened 
your  newspaper.  You  believed  every  man  a  liar  and 
dreamt  that  your  veins  ran  liquid  gold.  The  Stock 
Exchange  was  Hell  let  loose.  Men  went  insane.  Men 
committed  suicide.  No  one  stopped  to  remark.  Do 
you  wonder  that  men  watered  the  roots  of  their  nerves 
with  alcohol?  I  did  not,  but  the  fever  of  that  time 
burnt  me  out,  all  the  same.  I  've  never  been  the  same 
man  since.  Nor  has  any  other  San  Franciscan.  Even 
Polk  and  Yorba,  although  they  sold  out  at  the  right 
moment  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  felt  the  strain.  As 
for  Jack  Belmont,  he  was  on  one  glorious  drunk  all  the 
time, — and  never  more  of  a  gentleman.  How  he 
pulled  through  and  doubled  his  pile  to  boot,  the  Lord 
only  knows  ;  but  he  did." 

"  Miss  Belmont  will  be  a  great  prize,"  observed 
Fort,  thoughtfully.  "  The  greatest  beauty  in  the  State, 


The  Californians  171 

if  she  has  fulfilled  her  promise ;  any  amount  of  go, 
and  one  or  two  cold  millions,  —  the  Californian  heiress 
sublimated." 

"  And  mistress  of  herself  and  her  millions  in  a  few 
years.  I  hear  that  Belmont  has  not  drunk  a  drop 
since  he  has  been  in  Europe  with  her ;  he 's  been 
gone  a  year  now.  That  is  fatal  at  his  age,  —  after 
having  been  in  pickle  some  thirty  years.  Poor  Jack, 
—  the  best  fellow  that  ever  lived  !  I  suppose  his 
love  for  the  girl  brought  him  up  with  a  round  turn. 
Doubtless  he  suddenly  realised  that  she  was  old 
enough  to  understand,  and  that  he  must  pull  himself 
up  if  he  would  keep  her  respect.  There 's  a  good 
deal  of  tragedy  in  California,  Mr.  Trennahan,  and  it 's 
not  of  the  sentimental  young  folks'  sort,  neither." 

"I  won't  admit  it,"  said  Trennahan,  who  was  look 
ing  at  Magdalena.  "Its  very  air  breathes  content  — 
now,  at  any  rate.  I  am  glad  I  did  not  come  earlier." 

"  California  is  the  Princess  Royal  of  her  country," 
said  Fort ;  "  and  at  her  birth  all  the  good  fairies  came 
and  gave  her  of  every  gift  in  the  stores  of  the  im 
mortals.  Then  a  wicked  fairy  came  and  turned  the 
skeleton  in  her  beautiful  body  to  gold ;  and,  lo  !  the 
princess  who  had  been  fashioned  to  bless  mankind 
carried,  hidden  from  sight  by  her  innocent  and  be 
neficent  charms,  a  terrible  curse.  Men  came  to  kiss, 
and  stayed  to  tear  away  her  flesh  with  their  teeth. 
When  her  skeleton  has  been  torn  forth,  even  to  the 
uttermost  rib,  then  the  spell  of  the  wicked  fairy  will 
be  broken,  and  California  be  the  most  gracious  mother 
mankind  has  ever  known." 


172  The  Californians 

"  Eugene,  you  like  to  hear  yourself  talk,  but  it  must 
be  admitted  that  you  talk  well.  Will  you  come  out 
and  have  a  cigar?  and  you,  Mr.  Trennahan?  " 

There  was  no  doubt  that  the  party  was  a  success. 
Between  dances  the  girls  stood  together  in  groups 
and  superciliously  regarded  the  ranks  of  humble  wall 
flowers.  Suddenly  a  half-dozen  would  dash  down 
upon  a  young  man,  beg  him  simultaneously  for  an 
eighth  of  a  waltz,  and  scribble  hieroglyphics  on 
their  fans.  Alan  Rush  was  the  belle,  and  no  girl 
was  allowed  to  have  more  than  a  fourth  of  him  at 
a  time.  Once  the  girls  left  the  room  in  a  body, 
returning,  with  mumbled  excuses,  after  the  music  for 
the  next  dance  had  been  playing  some  three  minutes. 
Sometimes  a  girl  would  approach  a  segregated  youth, 
ask  him  patronisingly  if  he  was  enjoying  himself,  talk 
to  him  until  the  music  began,  then  sidle  off  with  an 
inaudible  remark.  Altogether  if  the  young  men  had 
sinned  during  the  summer,  —  and  they  searched  their 
consciences  in  vain,  —  they  were  punished.  The  New 
Woman  had  not  arrived  in  the  Eighties,  but  the  in 
stinct  was  there,  inherited  from  remotest  mother. 

The  party  was  a  third  over  when  Trennahan  ap 
proached  Magdalena  for  the  first  time.  She  had 
taken  her  partner  to  his  chaperon,  Mrs.  Geary,  and 
was  regarding  a  group  of  expectant  youths.  The  spirit 
of  the  thing  had  possessed  her  and  she  was  enjoying 
herself.  Her  shyness  had  worn  off  to  some  extent ; 
she  danced  rather  well,  and  had  learned  to  make 
small  talk.  Being  happy,  all  things  seemed  easy  of 


The  Califbrnians  173 

accomplishment.  She  became  aware  that  Trennahan 
was  standing  beside  her,  but  did  not  turn  her  eyes. 

"  Will  you  sit  out  a  dance  with  me  —  or  rather  walk 
it  out  in  the  garden?  You  must  be  a  little  tired,  and 
it  is  delightful  out  there." 

"  I  'd  rather  —  I  think  papa  would  not  like  it." 

"  I  am  positive  that  he  would  not  mind." 

"  I  am  engaged." 

"  Let  me  see  your  fan." 

She  delivered  it  reluctantly. 

"You  have  no  one  down  for  the  next  —  nor  the 
next." 

"I  —  I  —  think  I  'd  rather  not  go." 

"Do  you  mean  that?  For  if  you  do,  I  shall  go 
home.  I  came  for  nothing  else.  I  have  not  seen 
you  alone  for  three  days." 

"  I  am  sorry." 

«  Come." 

Her  jumping  fingers  closed  about  her  fan,  and  the 
sticks  creaked ;  but  she  followed  him. 

As  they  descended  the  steps  he  drew  her  hand 
through  his  arm.  The  garden  looked  very  wild  and 
dark.  The  stars  were  burning  overhead.  Slanting 
into  the  heavy  perfume  of  flowers  were  the  pungent 
odours  of  a  forest  fire. 

"  You  look  like  a  pomegranate  flower." 

"  Do  you  like  my  frock  ?  " 

"  You  know  that  I  do." 

"  Should  you  like  to  smoke  ?  " 

"  I  should  not." 


174  The  Californians 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  night." 

"  Very." 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Helena  to-day." 

"Did  you?" 

"  She  described  a  wonderful  experience  she  had 
climbing  the  Alps.  Shall  I  tell  you  about  it?" 

"  Good  God,  no  !  I  beg  pardon,  but  the  American 
girl  in  Europe  is  interesting  to  no  one  but  herself." 

"  She  is  interesting  to  me." 

"  Because  you  love  her.  Her  letters  really  bore  you, 
only  you  won't  admit  it  even  to  yourself." 

"  But  Helena  is  really  more  brilliant  than  most 
people." 

"  Possibly ;  but  I  did  not  come  out  here  to  talk 
about  Helena." 

Magdalena's  fan  was  hanging  at  the  end  of  a  chain. 
She  clutched  at  it,  missed  it,  and  pressed  her  hand 
against  her  heart,  which  was  hammering. 

He  saw  the  motion,  and  took  her  hand  in  his.  She 
glanced  about  wildly.  She  was  in  a  whirl  of  terror  of 
everything  under  heaven.  Too  dignified  to  wrest  her 
self  away  and  run,  she  gave  him  a  swift  glance  of 
appeal,  then  bent  her  head.  He  dropped  her  hand. 

"  I  would  not  frighten  nor  bother  you  for  the  world, 
but  you  know  what  I  have  wanted  to  say  for  days  past. 
That,  at  least,  can  be  no  shock :  you  have  known  for  a 
long  while." 

"  I  'd  rather  you  did  n't  say  it,"  she  gasped. 

"  I  intend  to  say  it,  nevertheless,  and  you  will  soon 
get  used  to  it.  Will  you  marry  me?" 


The  Californians  175 

"Oh  —  I  —  suppose  so  —  that  is,  if  you  want  me  to. 
Let  us  go  back  to  the  house." 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  going  back  to  the  house  for 
fully  half  an  hour.  Do  you  love  me  ?  " 

She  hated  him  at  the  moment. 

"  Answer  me." 

"I  —  I  —  thought  I  did  —  I  don't  know." 

"Well,  we  will  drop  the  subject  for  a  moment. 
There  are  some  other  things  I  want  to  talk  to  you 
about.  Shall  we  walk  on?" 

She  drew  a  long  breath  at  the  respite.  He  resumed 
in  a  moment. 

"  Of  course  I  am  double  your  age,  but  I  do  not 
think  we  shall  be  any  less  happy  on  that  account.  My 
life,  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  has  not  been  an  ideal  one. 
After  .the  wildness  of  youth  came  the  deliberate  trans 
gressions  of  maturity,  then  the  more  flagrant,  because 
purposeless  sins  which  followed  satiety.  I  know  noth 
ing  of  the  middle  classes  of  the  United  States,  —  I  have 
lived  little  in  this  country,  —  but  the  young  men  of  the 
upper  class  are  not  educated  to  add  to  the  glory  of 
the  American  race  :  they  are  educated  to  spend  their 
fathers'  millions.  It  is  true  that  in  spite  of  a  rather 
wild  career  at  college  I  left  it  with  a  half-defined  idea 
of  being  a  scientific  explorer,  and  had  taken  a  special 
course  to  that  end.  But  my  ambitions  crumbled  some 
where  between  the  campus  and  New  York.  I  am  not 
seeking  to  exculpate  myself,  to  throw  the  responsibility 
on  my  adolescent  country  :  I  had  something  more  than 
the  average  intelligence,  and  I  pursued  my  subsequent 


176  The  Californians 

life  deliberately.  Not  pursuing  an  ideal,  I  had  no  care 
to  reserve  the  best  that  was  in  me  for  the  woman  who 
should  one  day  be  my  wife.  I  entered  diplomacy  be 
cause  I  liked  the  life,  and  because  I  believed  that  the 
day  would  come  when  women  would  mean  little  more 
than  paper  dolls  to  me,  and  power  would  mean  every 
thing.  I  did  not  reckon  on  wearying  to  desperation  of 
the  world  in  general.  That  time  came ;  with  it  a 
desire  to  live  an  outdoor  existence  for  the  rest  of  my 
life.  That  at  least  never  palled.  I  determined  to 
come  to  California.  It  was  an  impulse  ;  I  hardly  spec 
ulated  upon  whether  I  should  remain  or  not.  As  the 
train  slid  down  the  Sierras,  I  knew  that  I  should. 
Memories  jumbled,  and  I  made  no  effort  to  pull  them 
apart.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  wanted  a  home 
and  a  wife.  The  night  we  met  I  felt  more  attracted 
to  you  than  to  the  other  charming  Californians  I  had 
met  because  you  seemed  more  a  part  of  the  country. 
It  is  singular  that  a  man  should  love  the  country  first, 
and  the  woman  as  a  logical  result,  but  I  did.  I  think 
that  you  know  I  love  you;  but  not  how  much,  nor 
what  it  means  to  me.  I  am  not  good  enough  for  you. 
My  soul  is  old.  I  see  life  exactly  as  it  is.  I  have  not 
an  illusion.  I  am  as  prosaic  as  are  all  men  who  have 
made  a  business  of  the  pleasures  of  life.  I  could  not 
make  you  a  perfervid  or  romantic  speech  to  save  my  life, 
and  as  the  selfishness  of  a  lifetime  has  made  me  moody 
and  fitful,  there  will  be  intervals  when  I  shall  be  the 
reverse  of  lover-like ;  but  on  the  whole  I  think  you  will 
find  me  a  rather  ardent  lover.  It  seems  very  little  to 


The  Californians  177 

offer  a  girl  who  has  everything  to  give.  But  I  love  you ; 
never  doubt  that.  What  little  good  was  left  in  me  you 
have  coaxed  up  and  trained  to  something  like  its  origi 
nal  proportions.  I  want  you  to  understand  what  my 
past  has  been ;  but  I  also  want  you  to  understand  that 
I  am  not  the  same  man  I  was  six  months  ago,  and  that 
you  have  worked  the  change.  When  I  crossed  the 
continent,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  I  had  Hell 
in  me,  —  that  ferment  of  spirit  which  means  mental 
nausea  and  the  desperate  dodging  of  one's  accusing 
soul.  I  suppose  such  a  time  comes  to  most  men  who 
have  persistently  violated  the  original  instinct  for  good. 
With  the  lower  orders  it  means  crime ;  with  the  higher 
civilisation  a  legion  of  imps  shrieking  in  a  man's  soul. 
I  will  not  say  that  my  particular  band  have  been  silent 
since  I  came  here,  for  that  would  mean  moral  obtuse- 
ness  ;  but  they  are  placated,  and  have  consented  to  fix 
a  generous  eye  on  the  future.  I  believe,  firmly  believe, 
that  my  future  will  atone  for  my  past,  —  morally,  I 
mean ;  I  want  you  to  understand  that  I  have  wronged 
no  man  but  myself,  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  no  act 
unbecoming  a  gentleman.  Now  look  at  me  and  tell 
me  that  you  do  not  hate  me." 

Magdalena  lifted  her  face.  Her  lips  were  dry  and 
parted,  her  eyes  expanded,  but  not  with  horror. 

"  I  love  you,"  she  said ;  "  I  am  glad  that  I  can  help 
you." 

They  were  near  a  huge  oak  whose  limbs  shut  out  the 
stars.  Trennahan  drew  her  into  its  shadows  and  took 
her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  many  times.  He  lifted 

12 


178  The  Californians 

her  arms  about  him,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  tightly. 
He  might  be  business-like,  without  illusions,  but  he 
knew  how  to  make  love  with  energy  and  grace.  Mag- 
dale' na  from  brain  to  sole  was  on  fire  with  adoration  of 
him.  The  words  of  it  surged  toward  speech,  but  re 
serve  held  her  even  then.  She  only  clung  to  him 
and  breathed  the  passion  which  his  touch  had  startled. 
His  own  pulses  were  full,  and  he  held  her  close,  glad 
that  the  spiritual  desires  had  caught  and  embraced 
the  human,  and  that  their  chances  for  happiness  were 
all  that  he  could  wish  and  a  good  deal  more  than  he 
deserved. 


XXX 

"  LOOK  !  "  whispered  Magdaldna. 

They  had  reached  the  steps  of  the  verandah,  and 
were  about  to  mount  when  she  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  Mr.  Polk  stood  by  one  of  the  windows.  His 
head  was  thrust  forward.  He  was  staring  into  the 
room  with  hungry  eyes  and  twitching  jaw.  The  light 
was  full  on  his  white  face.  In  the  room  Tiny  was 
standing  on  a  chair  fanning  Alan  Rush.  Fort  was 
commanding  Ila  to  pick  up  his  handkerchief.  The 
others  were  laughing  and  applauding.  Lee  and  Coralie 
in  their  obscure  corner  were  wide-eyed  with  excite 
ment,  and  happy.  Mr.  Folk's  chest  heaved  spasmodi 
cally.  He  screwed  up  his  eyes.  His  face  grinned. 
He  looked  like  a  man  on  the  rack.  He  opened  his 


The  Californians  179 

eyes  and  glared  about ;  but  he  saw  nothing,  for  they 
were  blind  with  tears.     He  turned  and  fled. 

Magdaldna  clung  to  Trennahan,  shaking.  "Take 
me  home,"  she  said.  "  I  cannot  stand  any  more 
to-night." 


BOOK     II 


BOOK     II 

I 

HELENA  was  home. 

Magdalena  sat  amidst  iridescent  billows  of  ball 
gowns,  dinner-gowns,  tea-gowns,  negliges,  demi-toilettes, 
calling-frocks,  street-frocks,  yachting-frocks,  summer- 
frocks.  She  had  never  seen  so  many  clothes  outside 
of  a  dry-goods  shop,  and  marvelled  that  any  one 
woman  should  want  so  many.  They  were  on  the  bed, 
the  chairs,  the  tables,  the  divan.  Two  mammoth 
trunks  were  but  half  unpacked.  Others,  empty,  made 
the  hall  impassable. 

"I  love  dress,"  said  Helena,  superfluously.  "And 
women  forgive  your  beauty  and  brains  so  much  more 
willingly  if  you  divert  their  attention  by  the  one  thing 
their  soul  can  admire  without  bitterness." 

"You  have  not  grown  cynical,  Helena?  "  asked  Mag- 
dal£na,  anxiously. 

"  A  little.  It 's  a  phase  of  extreme  youth  which  must 
run  its  course  with  the  down  on  the  peach.  I  fought 
against  it  because  I  want  to  be  original,  but  you  might 
as  well  fight  against  a  desire  to  sing  at  the  top  of  your 
voice  when  you  are  happy.  But,  you  darling !  I  'm 
so  glad  to  see  you  again." 


184  The  Californians 

She  flung  herself  on  her  knees  beside  Magdale'na 
and  demanded  to  be  kissed.  Magdalena,  who  could 
hardly  realise  that  she  was  back,  and  whose  loves  were 
as  fixed  as  the  roots  of  the  redwoods,  gave  her  a  great 
hug. 

"  Tell  me,  'L£na,  am  I  improved  ?  Am  I  beautiful  ? 
Am  I  a  great  beauty?  " 

"You  are  the  most  beautiful  person  I  have  ever 
seen.  Of  course  I  have  not  seen  the  great  beauties  of 
Europe  —  " 

"  They  are  not  a  patch  to  ours.  When  I  was  pre 
sented,  there  were  eight  professionals  standing  round, 
and  I  walked  away  from  the  lot  of  them.  Am  I  more 
beautiful  than  Tiny,  or  Ila,  or  Caro,  or  Mrs.  Wash 
ington?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !  yes  !  " 

"How?     They  are  really  very  beautiful." 

"  I  know ;  but  you  are  —  you  know  I  never  could 
express  myself." 

"I  am  Helena  Belmont,"  replied  that  young  woman, 
serenely.  "  Besides,  I  've  got  the  will  to  be  beautiful 
as  well  as  the  outside.  Tiny  has  n't.  I  have  real  au 
dacity,  and  Ila  only  a  make-believe.  Caro  shows  her 
cards  every  time  she  rolls  her  eyes,  and  Mrs.  Washing 
ton  never  had  a  particle  of  dash.  I  'm  going  to  be  the 
belle.  I  'm  going  to  turn  the  head  of  every  man  in 
San  Francisco." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  will,  Helena." 

"  Afraid  ?  You  know  you  want  me  to.  It  would  n't  be 
half  such  fun  if  you  were  n't  approving  and  applauding." 


The  Californians  185 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  hurt  anybody." 

"Hurt?"  Helena  opened  her  dark-blue  pellucid 
eyes.  "  The  idea  of  bothering  about  a  trifle  like  that. 
Men  expect  to  get  a  scratch  or  two  for  the  privilege 
of  knowing  us.  It  will  be  something  for  a  man  to  re 
member  for  the  rest  of  his  life  that  I  've  '  hurt '  him." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  're  a  spoilt  beauty  already, 
Helena." 

"  I  've  got  the  world  at  my  feet.  That 's  a  lovely 
sensation.  You  can't  think  —  it 's  a  wonderful  sen 
sation." 

"  I  can  imagine  it."  Magdale"na  spoke  without 
bitterness.  Helena  realised  all  her  old  ambitions  but 
one,  but  she  was  too  happy  for  envy. 

"  Describe  Mr.  Trennahan  all  over  again." 

"  I  am  such  a  bad  hand  at  describing." 

"  Well,  never  mind.  Fancy  your  being  engaged  ! 
Tell  me  everything.  How  did  you  feel  the  first  mo 
ment  you  met  him ?  When  did  you  find  yourself  going? 
It  must  be  such  a  jolly  sensation  to  be  in  love  —  for  a 
week  or  so.  Now  !  Tell  me  all." 

"  I  'd  rather  not,  Helena.  I  love  you  better  than 
anyone  besides,  but  I  am  not  the  kind  that  can  talk —  " 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  could  n't  talk  about  it,  myself,  but 
I  think  I  could.  I  can't  imagine  not  talking  about 
anything.  But  of  course  you  are  the  same  old  'Le"na. 
Will  you  let  me  read  his  letters?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !  " 

"  I  "11  show  you  every  letter  I  get.  I  never  could 
be  so  stingy." 


1 86  The  Californians 

"I  could  not  do  that.  I  should  feel  as  if  I  had 
lost  something." 

"  You  were  always  so  romantic.  There  never  was  any 
romance  about  me.  Poor  Mr.  Trennahan  will  have 
something  to  do  to  live  up  to  you.  An  altitude  of 
eleven  thousand  feet  is  trying  to  most  masculine  con 
stitutions.  But  I  suppose  he  likes  the  variety  of  it, 
after  twenty  years  of  society  girls.  Well,  let  him 
rest." 

A  door  shut  heavily  in  the  hall  below.  Helena 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"There's  papa.  I  must  go  down.  I  never  leave 
him  a  minute  alone  if  I  can  help  it.  That 's  my  only 
crumpled  rose-leaf,  —  he  is  so  pale  and  seems  so  de 
pressed  at  times.  You  know  how  jolly  and  dashing  he 
used  to  be.  He  has  n't  a  thing  to  worry  him,  and  I 
can't  think  what  is  the  matter.  I  beg  him  to  tell  me, 
but  he  says  a  man  at  his  age  can't  expect  to  be  well 
all  the  time.  I  can  always  amuse  him,  and  I  like  to 
be  with  him  all  I  can.  He  's  such  a  darling  !  He  'd 
build  me  a  house  of  gold  if  I  asked  for  it." 


II 

WHEN  Magdale"na  returned  home  she  spread  her  new 
garments  on  the  bed  and  regarded  them  with  much 
satisfaction.  Helena  had  expended  no  less  thought  on 
these  than  on  her  own,  and  none  whatever  on  the 
meagreness  of  Don  Roberto's  check.  There  was  a 


The  Californians  187 

brown  tweed  with  a  dash  of  scarlet,  a  calling-frock  of 
fawn-coloured  camel's  hair  and  silk,  a  dinner-gown 
of  pale  blue  with  bunches  of  scarlet  poppies,  and  a 
miraculous  coming-out  gown  of  ivory  gauze,  the  deep 
est  shade  that  could  be  called  white.  And  besides 
two  charming  hats  there  was  a  large  box  of  presents  : 
fans,  silk  stockings,  gloves,  handkerchiefs,  and  soft  in 
describable  things  for  the  house  toilette.  And  her 
trousseau  was  also  to  come  from  Paris  !  Don  Roberto, 
in  his  delight  at  having  secured  Trennahan,  had  in 
formed  his  daughter  that  she  should  have  a  trousseau 
fit  for  a  princess ;  or,  on  second  thoughts,  for  a  Yorba. 

Magdale"na  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  another 
of  Helena's  presents,  —  a  jewelled  dagger.  While 
Colonel  Belmont  and  his  daughter  were  in  Madrid 
there  was  a  sale  of  a  spendthrift  noble's  treasures. 
They  had  gone  to  see  the  famous  collection,  and 
among  other  things  the  dagger  was  shown  them. 

"  It  belonged  to  a  lady  of  the  great  house  of  Yorba," 
they  were  told.  "  She  always  wore  it  in  her  hair,  and  all 
men  worshipped  her.  The  old  women  said  it  was  the 
dagger  that  made  men  love  her,  that  it  was  bewitched ; 
there  were  other  women  as  beautiful.  But  men  died 
for  this  one  and  no  other.  One  day  she  lost  the  dag 
ger,  and  after  that  men  loved  her  no  longer.  They  ran 
and  threw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the  women  that 
had  hated  her.  She  laughed  in  scorn  and  said  that 
she  wanted  no  such  love,  and  that  when  one  returned 

—  he  had  gone  as  Ambassador  to  the  Court  of  France 

—  he    would   show  the  world    that    his  love   did  not 


1 88  The  Californians 

skulk  in  the  hilt  of  a  dagger.  People  marvelled  at 
this  because  she  had  flouted  her  very  skirts  in  his  face, 
had  not  thrown  him  so  much  as  the  humblest  flower 
of  hope.  When  they  heard  he  was  coming,  they  held 
their  breath  to  see  if  the  magnet  had  been  in  the  dag 
ger  for  him  too.  He  arrived  in  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  she  was  found  in  her  bed  with  the  dagger  to 
the  hilt  in  her  heart.  They  accused  him,  and  he 
would  not  say  yes  or  no,  but  they  could  prove  nothing 
and  let  him  go.  And  when  he  died  the  dagger  was 
found  among  his  possessions.  No  one  could  ever  say 
how  he  got  it.  But  it  has  remained  in  his  family  until 
to-day — and  now  it  goes  where?" 

"ToaYorba!"  announced  Helena  to  MagdaMna, 
as  she  repeated  this  yarn.  "  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
that,  double  quick  !  It  may  or  may  not  be  true,  and 
she  may  or  may  not  have  been  your  ancestress ;  but  it 
would  make  a  jolly  present  all  the  same,  so  I  ordered 
papa  to  buy  it  if  all  Madrid  bid  against  him.  Of 
course  he  did  what  I  told  him,  and  I  want  you  to 
wear  it  the  night  of  the  party." 

Magdatena  regarded  it  with  great  awe.  She  was  by 
no  means  without  superstition.  Would  it  bring  men 
to  her  feet?  Not  that  she  wanted  them  now,  but  she 
would  like  one  evening  of  intoxicating  success,  just  for 
the  sake  of  her  old  ambitions :  they  had  been  little 
less  than  entities  at  one  time  ;  for  old  friendship's  sake 
she  would  like  to  give  them  their  due.  She  did  wish 
that  she  felt  a  thrill  as  she  touched  it,  —  a  vibration  of 
the  attenuated  thread  which  connected  one  of  her  soul's 


The  Californians  189 

particles  with  that  other  soul  which,  perhaps,  had  con 
tributed  its  quota  to  her  making.  But  she  felt  nothing, 
and  replaced  the  dagger  with  some  chagrin. 

She  put  away  the  clothes  and  sat  down  before  the 
fire  to  think  of  Trennahan.  He  had  gone  East  at  the 
summons  of  his  mother,  who  had  invested  a  large  sum 
of  money  unwisely,  —  a  habit  she  had.  He  might  be 
detained  some  weeks.  Magdale"na,  on  the  whole,  was 
glad  to  have  him  gone  for  a  while.  She  wanted  to 
think  about  him  undisturbed,  and  she  wanted  to  get 
used  to  Helena  and  her  exactions  while  his  demands 
were  abstract :  she  loved  so  hard  that  she  must  rub 
the  edge  off  her  delight  in  having  Helena  again,  or  the 
two  would  tear  her  in  twain. 

She  found  the  sadness  of  missing  him  very  pleasur 
able,  —  feeling  sure  of  his  return  ;  also  the  painful  thrill 
every  morning  when  the  postman  knocked.  And  to 
sit  in  retrospect  of  the  summer  was  delicious.  There 
may  have  been  flaws  in  its  present ;  there  were  none 
in  its  past.  Her  ambition  to  write  was  dormant.  A 
woman's  brain  in  love  is  like  a  garden  planted  with 
one  flower.  There  may  be  room  for  a  weed  or  two, 
but  for  none  other  of  the  floral  kingdom. 

Trennahan  had  given  her  more  than  one  glimpse  of 
his  past,  and  it  had  appalled  without  horrifying  or  re 
pulsing  her.  Her  sympathy  had  been  swift  and  un 
erring.  She  realised  that  Trennahan  had  come  to 
California  at  a  critical  point  in  his  moral  life,  and  that 
his  complete  regeneration  depended  on  his  future  hap 
piness.  He  had  pointed  this  out  as  a  weakness,  but 


190  The  Californians 

the  fact  was  all  that  concerned  her.  Whatever  mists 
there  might  be  between  her  perceptions  and  the  great 
abstractions  of  life,  love  had  sharpened  all  that  love 
demanded  and  pointed  them  straight  at  all  in  Tren- 
nahan  that  he  wished  her  to  know.  She  was  awed  by 
the  tremendous  responsibility,  but  confident  that  she 
was  equal  to  it ;  for  did  she  not  love  him  wholly,  and 
had  he  not  chosen  her,  by  the  light  of  his  great  expe 
rience,  out  of  all  women?  She  would  walk  barefooted 
on  Arctic  snows  or  accept  any  other  ordeal  that  came 
her  way,  but  she  would  make  him  happy. 

Suddenly  she  remembered  that  she  had  received  a 
brief  dictated  note  from  her  aunt  that  morning,  asking 
her  to  pack  and  send  to  Santa  Barbara  a  painting  of 
the  Virgin  which  hung  in  her  old  apartments :  she 
wished  to  present  it  to  the  Mission.  Mr.  Polk  had 
closed  his  house  a  year  before  and  taken  up  his 
permanent  abode  with  the  Yorbas,  but  his  Chinese 
major-domo  was  in  charge.  Magdalena  reflected  that 
it  was  not  necessary  to  bother  her  uncle,  who  had 
seemed  ill  and  restless  of  late ;  the  Chinaman  could 
attend  to  the  matter. 

She  went  downstairs  and  through  the  gardens  to 
the  adjoining  house.  The  weeds  grew  high  behind  it ; 
the  windows  were  dusty ;  the  side  door  at  which  she 
rang  needed  painting.  The  Chinaman  answered  in 
his  own  good  time.  He  looked  a  little  sodden ;  doubt 
less  he  employed  much  of  his  large  leisure  with  the 
opium  pipe.  Magdalena  bade  him  follow  her  to  her 
aunt's  apartments.  As  she  ascended  the  imposing 


The  Californians 


191 


staircase  she  withdrew  her  hand  hastily  from  the 
banister. 

"Why  do  you  not  keep  things  clean?"  she  asked 
disgustedly. 

"  VVhattee  difflence  ?  Nobody  come,"  he  replied 
with  the  philosophy  of  his  kind. 

The  very  air  was  musty  and  dusty.  The  black  walnut 
doors,  closed  and  locked,  looked  like  the  sealed  en 
trances  to  so  many  vaults.  The  sound  of  a  rat  gnaw 
ing  echoed  through  the  hollow  house.  It  seemed 
what  it  was,  this  house,  —  the  sarcophagus  of  a  beau 
tiful  woman's  youth  and  hopes. 

For  a  year  or  two  after  the  house  was  built  Mrs. 
Polk  had  given  magnificent  entertainments,  scattering 
her  husband's  dollars  in  a  manner  that  made  his  thin 
nostrils  twitch,  and  without  the  formality  of  his  consent. 
Magdalena  paused  at  a  bend  of  the  stair  and  tried  to 
conjure  up  a  brilliant  throng  in  the  dark  hall  below, 
the  great  doors  of  the  parlours  rolled  -back,  the  rooms 
flooded  with  the  soft  light  of  many  candles ;  her  aunt, 
long,  willowy,  of  matchless  grace,  her  marvellous  eyes 
shooting  scorn  at  the  Americans  crowding  about  her, 
standing  against  the  gold-coloured  walls  in  the  blood- 
red  satin  she  had  shown  once  to  her  small  admirers. 
But  the  vision  would  not  rise.  There  was  only  a  black 
well  below,  a  rat  crunching  above. 

She  reached  the  door  of  her  aunt's  private  apart 
ments  on  the  second  floor  and  entered.  She  stepped 
back  amazed.  There  was  no  dust  here,  no  musty  air, 
no  dimness  of  window.  A  fire  burned  on  the  hearth. 


192  The  Californians 

The  gas  was  lit  and  softly  shaded.  The  vases  on  the 
mantel  were  full  of  flowers.  On  one  table  was  a 
basket  of  fruit;  on  another  were  the  illustrated 
periodicals. 

"  Mrs.  Polk  is  here?  "  she  said  to  Ah  Sin. 

"No,  missee." 

"  She  is  expected,  then?     How  odd  —  " 

"  Donno,  missee.  Evey  day,  plenty  days,  one,  two, 
thlee  weeks,  me  fixee  rooms  all  same  this." 

"But  why?" 

"  Kin  sabbee,  missee.  Mr.  Polk  tellee  me,  and  me 
do  allee  same  whattee  he  say." 

Magdale"na's  lips  parted,  and  her  breath  came  short. 

She  gave  the  necessary  instructions  about  the  pic 
ture.  The  Chinaman  followed  her  down  the  stairs  and 
opened  the  door.  As  she  was  passing  out,  she  turned 
suddenly  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  It  is  not  necessary  to  tell  Mr.  Polk  about  this, 
nor  that  I  have  been  here.  He  does  not  like  to  be 
bothered  about  little  things." 

"Allight,  missee." 


Ill 

THE  night  of  Mrs.  Yorba's  long-heralded  ball  had 
arrived  at  last.  For  weeks  Society  had  been  keenly 
expectant,  for  its  greatest  heiress  and  its  three  most 
beautiful  girls  were  to  come  forth  from  the  seclusion 
in  which  they  were  supposed  to  have  been  cultivating 


The  Californians  193 

their  minds,  into  the  great  world  of  balls,  musicales,  and 
teas,  where  their  success  would  be  in  inverse  ratio 
to  their  erudition. 

Rose  and  Caro  had  arrived  the  winter  before,  and 
were  no  longer  "  buds ; "  but  Magdale"na,  Helena, 
Tiny,  and  Ila  were  hardly  known  by  sight  outside  the 
Menlo  Park  set.  Magdale"na  had  never  hung  over  the 
banisters  at  her  mother's  parties.  The  others  had 
been  abroad  so  long  that  the  most  exaggerated  stories 
of  their  charms  prevailed. 

The  old  beaux  knotted  their  white  ties  with  trem 
bling  fingers  and  thought  of  the  city's  wild  young  days 
when  Nina  Randolph,  Guadalupe  Hathaway,  Mrs. 
Hunt  Maclean,  two  of  the  "  Three  Macs,"  and  the 
sinuous  wife  of  Don  Pedro  Earle  had  set  their  pulses 
humming.  They  were  lonely  old  bachelors,  many  of 
them,  living  at  the  Union  or  the  Pacific  Club,  and 
they  sighed  as  the  memories  rose.  That  was  a  day 
when  every  other  woman  in  society  was  a  great 
beauty,  and  as  full  of  fascination  as  a  fig  of  seeds. 
To-day  beautiful  women  in  San  Francisco's  aristocracy 
were  rare.  In  Kearney  Street,  on  a  Saturday  after 
noon,  one  could  hardly  walk  for  the  pretty  painted 
shop-girls ;  and  in  that  second  stratum  which  was 
led  by  the  wife  of  a  Bonanza  king  who  had  been 
pronounced  quite  impossible  by  Mrs.  Yorba  and  other 
dames  of  the  ancient  aristocracy,  there  were  many 
stunningly  handsome  girls.  They  could  be  met  at 
the  fashionable  summer  resorts ;  they  were  effulgent 
on  first  nights ;  they  were  familiar  in  Kearney  Street 

13 


194  The  Californians 

on  other  afternoons  than  Saturday,  and  their  little 
world  was  gay  in  its  way ;  but  Society,  that  exclusive 
body  which  owned  its  inchoation  and  later  its  vitality 
and  coherence  to  that  brilliant  and  polished  little  band 
of  women  who  came,  capable  and  experienced,  to  the 
fevered  ragged  city  of  the  early  Fifties,  still  struggled 
in  the  Eighties  to  preserve  its  traditions,  and  did  not 
admit  the  existence  of  these  people  ;  feminine  curi 
osity  was  not  even  roused  to  the  point  of  discussion. 
One  day  Mrs.  Washington  met  one  of  the  old  beaux, 
Ben  Sansome  by  name,  on  the  summit  of  California 
Street  hill,  which  commands  one  of  the  finest  views 
of  a  city  swarming  over  an  hundred  hills. 

Mrs.  Washington  waved  her  hand  at  the  large 
region  known  as  South  San  Francisco. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "  that  there  are 
a  lot  of  people  in  San  Francisco  whose  names  we  have 
never  heard." 

"  I  suppose  so  !  "   he  exclaimed. 

"  I  wonder  what  they  are  like  ?  How  many  people 
are  there  in  San  Francisco,  anyhow?" 

"  About  three  hundred  thousand." 

"Really?  really?"  and  Mrs.  Washington  shrugged 
her  pretty  shoulders  and  dismissed  the  subject  from 
her  mind. 

Would  these  new  beauties  compare  with  that  galaxy 
of  long  ago?  was  the  thought  that  danced  between 
Ben  Sansome's  faded  eyes  and  his  mirror.  Three  to 
burst  forth  in  a  night !  That  was  unwonted  measure. 
Of  late  years  one  in  three  seasons  had  inspired  fervent 


The  Californians  195 

gratitude.  Nelly  Washington  had  been  unchallenged 
for  ten  years;  Caro  Folsom  was  second-rate  beside 
her;  and  Rose  Geary,  the  favourite  of  last  winter, 
although  piquant  and  pretty,  had  not  a  pretension 
to  beauty.  Like  the  other  old  beaux,  he  went  only 
to  the  balls  and  dinners  of  the  old-timers,  never 
to  the  dances  and  musicales  of  the  youngsters,  but 
he  kept  a  sharp  look-out,  nevertheless.  To-night  as 
sumed  the  proportions  of  an  event  in  his  life. 

Several  of  the  young  men  had  met  two  of  these 
beauties  during  the  summer,  but  Helena  was  still  to  be 
experienced.  The  young  hands  did  not  tremble,  but 
their  eyes  were  very  bright  as  they  wondered  if  they 
were  "  in  for  it,"  if  they  would  "  get  it  in  the  neck,"  if 
she  were  really  "  a  little  tin  goddess  on  wheels." 
Even  Rollins,  who  was  madly  enamoured  of  Tiny,  and 
Fort,  who  had  carefully  calculated  his  chances  with  Rose, 
were  big  with  curiosity.  The  former,  who  had  known 
Helena  from  childhood,  had  been  refused  admittance 
to  the  Belmont  mansion  :  Helena  had  a  very  distinct 
intention  of  making  a  sensation  upon  her  first  appear 
ance  in  San  Francisco ;  and  as  all  were  fish  that  came 
to  her  net,  even  Rollins  must  be  dazzled  with  the  rest. 

Magdale"na's  engagement  was  a  closely  guarded 
secret,  and  more  than  one  hardy  youth  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  storm  straight  through  her  intellect 
to  her  millions ;  but  even  these  thought  only  of 
Helena  as  they  dressed  for  the  ball. 

Meanwhile  the  girls  were  thinking  more  of  their 
toilettes  than  of  the  men  who  would  admire  them. 


196  The  Californians 

All  were  to  wear  white,  but  each  gown  had  been  made 
at  a  different  Paris  house,  that  there  should  be  no  mo 
notony  of  touch  and  cut,  and  each  was  of  different 
shade  and  material :  Magdalena's  of  ivory  gauze,  Tiny's 
of  pearl-white  silk,  Ila's  of  cream-white  embroidered 
mousselinc  de  sole,  Helena's  of  pure  white  tulle. 

What  little  of  Magdalena's  neck  the  gown  exposed, 
she  concealed  with  a  broad  band  of  cherry-coloured 
velvet,  and  a  deep  necklace  of  Turkish  coins,  a  gift 
from  Ila.  She  revolved  before  the  mirror  several 
times  in  succession  after  the  maid  had  left  the  room. 
She  was  laced  so  tightly  that  she  could  scarcely 
breathe,  but  she  rejoiced  in  her  likeness  to  a  French 
fashion-plate,  and  vowed  never  to  wear  a  home-made 
gown  again.  In  her  hair  was  a  string  of  pearls  that 
Trennahan  had  given  her;  and  the  dagger.  Would 
it  work  the  spell? 

She  gave  a  final  shake  to  her  skirts  and  went  down 
stairs. 

There  was  no  lack  of  gas  to-night ;  the  lower  part 
of  the  house  was  one  merciless  glare.  No  flowers 
graced  the  square  ugly  rooms,  no  decorations  of  any 
sort;  but  the  parlours  were  canvased,  the  best  band 
in  town  was  tuning  up,  and  the  supper  would  be 
irreproachable.  The  dark-brown  paper  of  the  hall 
looked  very  old  and  dingy,  the  carpet  was  threadbare 
in  places,  the  big  teakwood  tables  were  in  every 
body's  way  and  looked  as  if  they  were  meant  for 
the  dead  to  rest  on ;  but  when  gay"  gowns  were  bil 
lowing  one  would  not  notice  these  things. 


The  Californians  197 

Mrs.  Yorba  was  in  the  green  reception-room  at  the 
end  of  the  hall.  She  wore  black  velvet  and  a  few 
diamonds,  and  looked  impressively  null.  Tiny  and 
Ila  arrived  almost  immediately.  They  looked,  the 
one  an  angel  with  a  sense  of  humour,  the  other 
Circean  with  an  eye  to  the  conventions,  both  as 
smart  as  Paris  could  make  them.  It  was  nearly  ten 
o'clock,  and  there  was  a  rush  just  after. 

Magdale'na  waited  a  half-hour  for  Helena,  then 
opened  the  ball  in  a  brief  waltz  with  Alan  Rush 
instead  of  the  quadrille  in  which  the  four  debutantes 
were  to  dance.  She  sent  a  message  to  Helena,  and 
Mrs.  Cartright  scribbled  back  that  the  poor  dear 
child  had  altered  the  trimming  on  her  bodice  at  the 
last  moment,  and  would  not  be  ready  for  an  hour 
yet.  Caro  took  her  place  in  the  quadrille,  as  she 
also  wore  white. 

The  ball  promised  to  be  a  success.  There  were 
more  young  people  than  was  usual  at  Mrs.  Yorba's 
parties,  and  more  men  than  girls.  They  danced  and 
chatted  with  untiring  energy,  and  between  the  dances 
they  flirted  on  the  stairs  and  in  every  possible  nook 
and  corner.  Magdale'na  frolicked  little,  having  her 
guests  to  look  after;  but  whenever  she  rested  for  a 
moment  there  was  an  obsequious  backbone  before 
her.  Tiny  and  Ila  were  besieged  for  dances,  and 
divided  each. 

The  older  women  sat  against  the  wall,  a  dado  of 
fat  and  diamonds,  and  indulged  in  much  caustic 
criticism. 


198  The  Californians 

The  old  beaux  stood  in  a  group  and  exchanged 
opinions  on  the  relative  pretensions  of  the  old  and 
the  new. 

"Take  it  all  in  all,  not  to  compare,"  said  Ben 
Sansome.  "  Miss  Montgomery  is  excessively  pretty, 
but  no  figure  and  no  style.  Miss  Brannan  looks  like 
a  Parisian  cocotte.  Miss  Folsom  has  eyes,  but  nothing 
else  —  and  when  you  think  of  'Lupie  Hathaway's  eyes  ! 
And  not  one  has  the  beginnings  of  the  polished  charm 
of  manner,  the  fire  of  glance,  the  je  ne  sais  quoi  of 
Mrs.  Hunt  Maclean.  Just  look  at  her  in  her  silver 
brocade,  her  white  hair  a  la  marquise.  She  's  hand 
somer  than  the  whole  lot  of  them  —  " 

At  that  moment  Helena  entered  the  room. 

The  white  tulle  gown,  made  with  a  half-dozen 
skirts,  floated  about  her  so  lightly  that  she  seemed 
rising  from,  suspended  above  it.  Even  beside  her 
father  she  looked  tall ;  and  her  neck  and  arms,  the 
rise  of  her  girlish  bust,  were  more  dazzlingly  white 
than  the  diaphanous  substance  about  her.  Her 
haughty  little  head  was  set  well  back  on  a  full  firm 
throat,  not  too  long.  Her  cheeks  were  touched  with 
pink ;  her  lips  were  full  of  it.  Her  long  lashes  and 
low  straight  brows  were  many  shades  darker  than 
the  unruly  mane  of  glittering  coppery  hair.  And  she 
carried  herself  with  a  swing,  with  an  imperious  pride, 
with  a  nonchalant  command  of  immediate  and  unmeas 
ured  admiration  which  sent  every  maiden's  heart  down 
with  a  drop  and  every  man's  pulses  jumping. 

"  I  give  in  !  "  gasped  Ben  Sansome.     "  We  never 


The  Californians  199 

had  anything  like  that  —  never  !  Gad  !  the  girl 's  got 
everything.  It 's  almost  unfair." 

Alan  Rush  turned  white,  but  he  did  not  lose  his 
presence  of  mind.  He  asked  Don  Roberto  to  present 
him  at  once,  and  secured  the  next  dance.  It  was 
a  waltz;  and  as  the  admirably  mated  couple  floated 
down  the  room,  many  others  paused  to  watch  them. 
Helena's  limpid  eyes,  raised  to  the  eager  ones 
above  her,  did  all  the  execution  of  which  they  were 
capable.  During  the  next  entre-dance  she  was 
mobbed.  Twenty  men  pressed  about  her,  introduced 
by  Don  Roberto  and  Rollins,  until  she  finally  com 
manded  them  to  "go  away  and  give  her  air,"  then 
walked  off  with  Eugene  Fort,  finishing  his  first  epigram 
and  mocking  at  his  second.  He  had  only  a  fourth  of 
the  next  dance  ;  but  as  Helena  had  refused  to  permit 
her  admirers  to  write  their  names  on  her  card,  and  as 
she  was  at  no  pains  to  remember  which  fourth  was 
whose,  giving  her  scraps  to  the  first  comer,  Rush  and 
Fort,  who  had  had  the  forethought  not  to  pre-engage 
themselves,  and  were  constantly  in  her  wake,  secured 
more  than  their  share.  But  the  other  men  had  time 
and  energy  to  fight  for  their  own  :  Helena  was  con 
stantly  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with  a  firm 
demand  that  she  should  keep  her  word.  Between  the 
dances  the  men  crowded  about  her,  eager  for  a  glance, 
and  at  supper  the  small  table  before  her  looked  like 
an  offering  at  a  Chinese  funeral. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Washington,  "  I  always 
said  that  no  girl  could  be  a  belle  in  this  town  nowa- 


2OO  The  Californians 

days,  that  the  men  did  n't  have  gumption  enough ; 
but  I  reckon  it 's  because  the  rest  of  us  have  n't  come 
up  to  the  mark.  This  looks  like  the  stories  they  tell 
of  old  times." 

"It  makes  me  think  of  old  times,"  said  Mr.  San- 
some.  "  Makes  me  feel  young  again ;  or  older  than 
ever.  I  can't  decide  which." 

Tiny  took  her  eclipse  with  unruffled  philosophy, 
and  divided  her  smiles  between  two  or  three  faith 
ful  suppliants.  Ila  had  a  very  high  colour,  and 
her  primal  fascination  was  less  reserved  than  usual. 
Rose  admired  Helena  too  extravagantly  for  jealousy, 
and  what  Caro  felt  no  man  ever  knew. 

Colonel  Belmont  renewed  his  acquaintance  with 
many  of  the  women  of  his  youth,  long  neglected, 
although  he  had  loved  more  than  one  of  them  in  his 
day.  They  filled  his  ears  with  praises  of  his  beautiful 
daughter.  Helena's  beauty  was  of  that  rare  order 
which  compels  the  willing  admiration  of  her  own  sex : 
it  was  not  only  indisputable,  but  it  warmed  and  irra 
diated.  When  Colonel  Belmont  was  not  talking,  he 
stood  against  the  wall  and  followed  her  with  adoring 
eyes.  If  she  had  been  a  failure  — admitting  the  possi 
bility  —  his  disappointment  would  have  been  far  keener 
than  hers. 

"  You  've  cause  to  be  proud,  as  proud  as  Lucifer," 
said  Mr.  Polk  to  him.  "  But  you  ain't  looking  well, 
Jack.  What 's  the  matter?" 

"  I  'm  well  enough.  I  shall  live  long  enough  to  give 
her  to  someone  who  's  good  enough  for  her,  and  that 's 


The  Californians  20 1 

all  I  care  about  —  although  I  'm  in  no  hurry  for  that, 
either.  But  I  "m  not  feeling  right  smart,  Hi ;  I  don't 
just  know  what 's  the  matter." 

"  We  "re  both  getting  old.  I  feel  like  a  worked-out 
old  cart-horse.  But  you  've  got  ten  years  the  best  of 
me,  and  1  '11  tell  you  what 's  the  matter  with  you  :  you 
can't  switch  off  drink  at  your  age  after  being  two 
thirds  full  for  twenty-five  years.  We  all  need  whiskey 
as  we  grow  older,  and  the  more  we  've  had,  the  more 
we  need.  I  'd  advise  you  to  take  it  up  again  in 
moderation." 

"  Not  if  it 's  the  death  of  me  !  It 's  nothing  or  every 
thing  with  me.  The  first  cocktail,  and  I  'd  be  off  on  a 
jamboree.  Then  she  'd  know,  and  I  'd  blow  out  my 
brains  with  the  shame  of  it.  She  thinks  I  'm  the  finest 
fellow  in  the  world  now,  and  so  she  shall  if  I  suffer  the 
tortures  of  the  damned." 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  're  right.  The  young  fellows  talk 
about  dying  for  the  girls,  but  I  guess  we  're  the  ones 
that  would  do  that  for  our  own  if  it  came  to  the 
scratch." 

"It's  too  bad  you  have  none,"  said  Colonel  Belmont, 
with  the  sympathy  of  his  own  full  measure.  And  then, 
although  Mr.  Folk's  iron  features  did  not  move,  he 
looked  away  hastily. 

"  I  guess  I  did  n't  deserve  any,"  Mr.  Polk  answered 
harshly.  "  I  don't  know  that  you  did,  for  that  matter, 
but  I  certainly  did  n't.  Look  at  Don  cavorting  round 
with  those  girls,"  he  added  viciously.  "  It 's  positively 
sickening." 


The  Californians 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  He  's  making  up  for  what  he  's 
missed.  And  a  little  of  it  would  do  you  good,  old 
fellow.  You  've  never  had  half  enough  fun,  and  you 
ought  to  take  a  little  before  it 's  too  late.  You  have  n't 
a  pound  of  flesh  on  you,  and  are  as  spry  as  any  of 
them.  Go  and  make  yourself  agreeable  to  the  girls. 
Even  a  smile  from  them  goes  a  long  way,  I  assure 
you." 

Mr.  Polk  shook  his  head.  "  I  could  n't  think  of  a 
thing  to  say  to  them.  I  did  n't  learn  when  I  was 
young." 


IV 

WHEN  Magdal£na  drew  the  dagger  out  of  her  hair 
that  night,  she  laughed  a  little  and  tossed  it  into  her 
handkerchief  box.  She  had  seen  men  carried  off  their 
feet  for  the  first  time,  not  caring  whether  the  world 
laughed  or  not.  She  had  also  noted  the  exact  order  of 
homage  that  she  was  to  expect  from  men.  Helena 
infatuated.  The  other  girls  inspired  admiration  in 
varying  measure.  Respect  for  her  father's  millions 
was  her  portion.  She  had  watched  and  compared  all 
the  evening.  It  would  have  distressed  and  appalled 
her  had  she  made  her  d£but  last  winter.  As  it  was, 
it  mattered  little. 

Occasionally  there  is  a  lively  winter  in  San  Francisco. 
This  promised  to  be  almost  brilliant.  There  were  six 
balls  in  the  next  two  weeks.  At  each  Helena's  tri- 


The  Californians  203 

umphs  were  reiterated.  The  men  waited  in  a  solid 
body  between  the  front  door  and  the  staircase,  and  she 
had  promised,  divided,  and  subdivided  every  dance 
before  she  had  set  foot  on  the  lowest  step.  It  was 
almost  impossible  to  begin  a  party  until  her  arrival. 
Kettledrums  had  been  inaugurated  the  previous  win 
ter,  and  hardly  a  man  been  got  to  them.  Now  the 
men  would  have  begged  for  invitations.  They  even 
began  to  attend  church ;  and  Helena's  "  evening  "  was 
so  crowded  that  she  was  obliged  to  ask  five  or  six  of  her 
girl  friends  to  help  her.  Alan  Rush,  Eugene  Fort,  Carter 
Howard,  a  Southerner  of  charming  manners,  infinite 
tact,  and  little  conversation,  and  "  Dolly  "  Webster,  a 
fledgeling  of  enormous  length  and  well-proportioned 
brain,  were  her  shadows,  her  serfs,  her  determined, 
trembling  adorers.  They  barely  hated  one  another,  so 
devoured  were  they  by  the  sovereign  passion ;  and  as 
they  were  treated  with  exasperating  similitude,  there 
was  nothing  to  set  them  at  one  another's  throats. 

Helena  had  all  the  gifts  and  arts  of  the  supreme 
coquette.  She  allured  and  mocked,  appealed  and 
commanded ;  adapted  herself  with  the  suppleness  of 
bronze  to  mould,  with  enchanting  flashes  of  egotism  ; 
discarded  all  perception  of  man's  existence  in  the 
abstract,  when  she  had  surrendered  her  attention  to 
one,  to  jerk  him  out  of  his  heaven  by  ordering  him  to 
go  and  send  her  his  rival ;  possessed  a  quickness  of 
intuition  which  finished  a  man's  sentences  with  her 
eyes,  an  exquisite  sympathy  which  made  a  man  feel 
that  here  at  last  he  was  understood  (as  he  would  wish 


204  The  Californians 

himself  understood,  rather  than  as  he  understood  him 
self)  j  an  audacity  which  never  failed  to  surprise,  and 
never  shocked ;  a  fund  of  talk  which  never  wore  itself 
into  platitudes,  and  a  willing  ear;  and  an  absolute 
confidence  in  herself  and  her  destiny.  In  addition  she 
had  great  beauty,  the  high  light  spirits  of  her  mercurial 
temperament,  a  charming  and  equable  manner  (when 
not  engaged  in  judiciously  tormenting  her  slaves),  and 
a  shrewd  brain.  What  wonder  that  her  sovereignty  was 
something  for  the  men  who  worshipped  her  to  remem 
ber  when  they  too  were  old  beaux,  and  that  their  pres 
ent  condition  was  abject?  The  wonder  was  that  the 
women  did  not  hate  her;  but  so  impulsive  and  un 
affected  a  creature  disarms  her  own  sex,  particularly 
when  her  gowns  are  faultless,  and  she  is  not  lifeless  in 
their  company,  to  scintillate  the  moment  a  man  enters 
the  room. 

And  they  forbore  to  criticise  the  dictates  of  her  royal 
fancy.  It  is  true  that  she  deferred  to  no  one's  opinion, 
but  she  escaped  criticism  nevertheless.  If  she  capri 
ciously  refused  to  dance  at  a  party,  but  sat  the  night 
through  with  one  man,  not  recognising  the  existence  of 
her  lowering  train,  people  merely  smiled  and  shrugged 
their  shoulders,  saving  their  scowls  for  those  who  were 
not  the  fashion.  Sometimes  these  flirtations  took  place 
in  the  open  ball-room,  sometimes  in  the  conservatory ; 
it  was  all  one  to  Helena,  whose  powers  of  concentration 
amounted  to  genius.  At  one  of  the  Presidio  hops  she 
spent  the  evening  —  it  was  moonlight  —  in  a  boat  on 
the  bay  with  an  officer  who  was  as  accomplished  a  flirt 


The  Californians  205 

as  herself.  The  appearance  of  Rush,  Fort,  Howard, 
and  Webster  upon  this  occasion  was  pitiable.  On  her 
evening,  if  she  tired  of  her  admirers  before  they  could 
reasonably  be  expected  to  leave,  she  walked  out  of  the 
room  without  excuse  and  went  to  bed.  She  not  only 
ran  to  fires  when  the  humour  seized  her,  but  she  com 
manded  her  quartette  to  rush  every  time  the  alarm 
sounded,  that  they  might  be  at  her  beck  in  the  event 
of  officious  policemen.  As  fires  are  frequent  in  San 
Francisco,  these  enamoured  young  men  were  profoundly 
thankful  when  they  occurred  at  such  times  as  they  hap 
pened  to  be  in  their  tyrant's  presence  :  they  were  willing 
to  bundle  into  their  clothes  at  two  in  the  morning,  or 
to  leave  their  duties  at  midday,  were  they  sure  of  meet 
ing  her ,  but  as  she  was  as  capricious  about  fires  as 
about  everything  else,  their  chances  were  as  one  in  ten. 
They  hinted  once  that  she  might  advise  them  of  her 
pleasure  by  telephone,  but  were  peremptorily  snubbed. 
Helena  never  made  concessions. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  the  second  month  that  her  father 
imported  a  coach  from  New  York.  She  had  driven 
since  her  baby  days,  and  could  handle  four  horses  as 
scientifically  as  one.  Thereafter,  one  of  the  sights  of 
Golden  Gate  Park  on  fine  afternoons  was  Helena  on 
the  box  of  the  huge  black  and  yellow  structure,  tooling 
a  party  of  her  delighted  friends,  her  father  beside  her, 
one  of  her  admirers  crouched  at  her  indifferent  shoul 
der.  It  was  the  only  gentleman's  coach  in  California, 
for  in  the  Eighties  the  youth  of  the  city  had  not  turned 
their  wits  and  prowess  to  sport.  Few  of  them  could 


206  The  Californians 

drive  with  either  grace  or  assurance,  and  Helena's 
accomplishment  was  the  more  renowned.  Occasionally 
Colonel  Belmont  was  allowed  to  drive,  a  favour  which 
he  enjoyed  with  all  the  keenness  of  his  dashing  youth. 

"  I  told  you  how  it  would  be,"  said  Ila  to  Rose. 
"  She  is  not  only  belle,  but  leader.  That 's  the  real 
reason  Caro  's  gone  to  New  York.  We  are  nowhere. 
I  'd  turn  eccentric,  regularly  shock  people,  if  I  had  the 
good  luck  to  be  the  fashion.  But  I  've  got  to  marry 
well.  When  I  have  —  you  '11  see." 

"  We  can't  all  be  raving  belles,"  said  Rose.  "  If 
Helena  were  so  much  as  doubled,  the  men  would  be 
gibbering  idiots.  I  don't  care,  so  long  as  I  have  a  good 
time ;  and  I  hold  my  own.  So  do  you.  As  for  Tiny, 
she  may  not  be  mobbed,  but  she  has  one  man  in 
love  with  her  after  another.  As  soon  as  poor  Charley 
Rollins  got  his  cong£,  Bob  Payne  took  the  vacant  seat, 
and  I  see  a  third  climbing  over  the  horizon  with  busi 
ness  in  his  eye.  There  can  be  only  one  sun,  but 
we  're  all  stars  of  the  first  magnitude." 

"  But  we  'd  each  like  to  be  the  sun,  all  the  same." 


V 

MAGDAL£NA,  although  much  interested  in  Helena's 
performances,  felt  at  times  as  if  dream-walking,  half 
expecting  to  awaken  at  the  foot  of  her  little  altar.  In 
the  days  when  she  had  prayed,  full  of  faith,  for  beauty 
and  its  triumphs,  although  ignorance  had  handled  the 


The  Californians  207 

brush  of  her  imagination,  yet  the  vigorous  outline 
sketch  had  closely  resembled  all  that  was  now  the 
portion  of  her  friend.  She  pondered  on  the  fancy 
she  had  had  as  a  child  that  Helena  realised  all  her 
own  little  ambitions.  She  certainly  had  realised  all 
her  larger,  but  one.  She  dreaded  to  ask  Helena  if 
she  had  ever  cared  to  write,  fearing  to  surprise  a 
confession  to  the  authorship  of  the  novel  of  the  day. 
This,  she  concluded,  after  due  reflection,  was  exaggera 
tion  ;  for  if  Helena  had  written,  even  without  publica 
tion,  she  certainly  would  have  talked  about  it,  reticence 
being  no  vice  of  hers.  But  the  suggestion  might  prick 
a  latent  talent  into  action.  This  was  just  the  one  thing 
Magdale"na  could  not  endure,  and  she  decided  to  let 
the  talent  sleep.  The  rest  mattered  little,  aside  from 
the  sense  of  failure  which  the  vicarious  accomplishment 
of  ambition  must  always  induce ;  for  she  had  her  ad 
vantage  of  Helena,  the  greatest  one  woman  can  have 
of  another.  She  was  happy,  but  Helena  was  only 
satisfied  for  the  moment ;  so  restless  and  passionate  a 
heart  would  not  long  remain  content  with  the  husks. 
It  was  true  that  Trennahan  had  not  gone  mad  over  her 
self  as  other  men  over  Helena ;  but  what  of  that  ?  It 
was  a  question  of  years  alone. 

It  was  now  three  months  since  he  had  left  California. 
He  had  found  his  mother's  affairs  in  a  serious  condition, 
but  had  managed  to  gather  up  the  threads,  and  the 
knot  would  be  tied  before  long.  There  was  no  doubt 
about  his  desire  to  return.  In  fact,  as  the  time  waned, 
his  ardour  waxed.  Sometimes  Magdale'na  was  driven 


2o8  The  Californians 

to  wonder  if  his  yearning  for  California  or  herself  were 
the  greater ;  but  on  the  whole  she  was  satisfied,  for  she 
liked  to  accept  his  fancy  that  the  two  were  indissoluble. 
He  wrote  delightful  letters,  witty  and  graceful,  full  of 
interesting  gossip,  and  with  many  personal  and  tender 
pages.  But  the  novelty  of  his  absence  had  worn  off 
some  time  since,  and  she  longed  impatiently  for  his 
return.  She  was  caught  in  the  whirl  of  social  activity, 
and  was  the  restless  Helena's  constant  companion ; 
nevertheless,  there  were  lonely  hours,  when  the  future 
with  its  imperious  demands  routed  the  past. 

The  engagement  was  still  a  profound  secret ;  Mag- 
dal^na  had  told  Helena  at  once,  but  it  was  unguessed 
by  anyone  else.  Mrs.  Yorba  had  insisted  that  her 
daughter  should  have  one  brilliant  girl  season.  The 
truth  was  that  she  was  delighted  at  Don  Roberto's 
sudden  interest  in  the  world  of  fashion,  and  was  deter 
mined  to  make  the  most  of  it.  He  developed,  indeed, 
into  an  untiring  seeker  after  the  innocent  amusements 
of  his  wife's  exclusive  kingdom,  and  had  given  a 
fashionable  tailor  permission  to  bring  his  wardrobe 
down  to  date ;  he  had  hitherto  worn  clothes  of  the 
same  cut  for  twenty  years.  The  girls  always  gave  him  a 
square  dance  ;  during  the  round  dances  he  stood  against 
the  wall  with  Mr.  Polk  and  Colonel  Belmont,  and  fairly 
beamed  with  good-will.  The  Yorbas  seldom  spent  an 
evening  at  home  unless  their  own  doors  were  open, 
and  Don  Roberto  consented  to  two  parties  and  several 
large  dinners.  Mrs.  Yorba  shuddered  sometimes  at  the 
weakening  of  her  inborn  and  long-nurtured  economical 


The  Californians  209 

faculty,  but  thoroughly  enjoyed  herself — forming  an 
important  item  of  the  dado  —  and  hoped  that  her 
husband's  enthusiasm  would  endure. 


VI 

"  I  'M  not  a  bit  blase*,"  remarked  Helena,  "  but  I  'd 
like  to  be  engaged  for  a  change  —  not  to  last,  of  course. 
Only  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  which  of  the  four ;  and 
whichever  I  choose  the  other  three  will  be  so  disagree 
able.  If  I  could  only  let  them  know  I  did  n't  mean 
it,  —  at  least  would  n't  later,  —  but  that  would  never  do, 
because  I  should  ir  t  enjoy  myself  unless  I  really  thought 
I  was  in  earnest.  Besides,  I  have  n't  been  able  to  fall 
in  love  with  any  of  them  yet." 

"  You  don't  really  mean  what  you  say  when  you  talk 
that  way,  do  you,  Helena?"  asked  Magdatena,  with 
much  concern.  "  It  would  be  so  —  so  unprincipled ; 
and  I  can't  bear  to  think  that  of  you." 

"  But,  'Le'na  dearest,  I  should  be  in  earnest  for  the 
time  being ;  I  'm  just  talking  from  the  outside,  as  it 
were.  At  the  time  I  should  think  I  really  meant  it. 
Otherwise  I  'd  be  bored  to  death,  and  the  engagement 
would  n't  last  five  minutes  after  I  was.  I  'm  simply 
wild  to  fall  in  love,  if  only  to  see  what  it  *s  like.  You 
won't  tell  me  ;  anyhow,  I  don't  think  that  would  satisfy 
all  my  curiosity  if  you  did.  I  wish  some  new  man 
would  come  along." 

"  Alan  Rush  is  charming." 
14 


The  Californians 

"  He 's  too  much  in  love  with  me." 

"  Mr.  Fort  keeps  your  wits  on  the  jump." 

"  My  wits  are  in  my  brain,  not  my  heart." 

"Mr.  Howard?" 

"  He  has  so  much  tact  that  he  has  no  sincerity." 

"  There  is  still  Mr.  Webster." 

"  Poor  Dolly  !  " 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

Helena  was  moving  restlessly  about  her  boudoir,  —  a 
bower  of  pearl-grey  embroidered  with  wild  roses,  in 
which  she  reclined  luxuriously  when  free  from  social 
duties,  and  improved  her  mind.  A  volume  of  Motley 
lay  on  the  floor.  Walter  Pater's  "  Imaginary  Portraits  " 
was  slipping  off  the  divan,  and  there  was  a  pile  of 
Reviews  on  the  table.  She  was  biting  the  corner  of 
a  volume  of  Herrick. 

"  I  have  n't  any  ideal,  if  that 's  what  you  mean.  I 
think  it  would  have  to  be  a  man  of  the  world,  for  con 
versation  so  soon  gives  out  with  the  men  of  this  village. 
Mr.  Fort  takes  refuge  in  epigrams.  If  I  married  — 
became  engaged  to  him  —  I  should  feel  as  if  I  were 
living  on  pickles.  I  think  that  one  reason  why  Alan 
Rush  and  Mr.  Howard  are  so  determined  to  make  love 
to  me  is  because  they  have  nothing  left  to  talk  about." 

"  You  've  told  me  twice  what  you  don't  want,  but 
you  don't  seem  to  know  what  you  do.  '  A  man  of  the 
world '  is  not  very  definite." 

"  No  ;  he  must  be  capable  of  falling  violently  in  love 
with  me,  and  at  the  same  time  not  make  himself  ridic 
ulous  ;  to  keep  his  head  except  when  I  particularly  want 


The  Californians  211 

him  to  lose  it.  Of  course  I  want  to  inspire  a  grand 
passion  as  well  as  to  feel  one,  but  I  don't  want  to  be 
surrounded  by  it ;  and  the  first  time  he  looked  ridicu 
lous  would  be  the  last  of  him  as  far  as  I  was  concerned. 
I  might  be  in  the  highest  stages  of  the  divine  passion, 
and  that  would  cure  me." 

"  Well !  is  that  all  ?  Some  men  could  not  be  ridicu 
lous  if  they  tried." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  Mr.  Trennahan,  of  course.  If 
he  did,  I  do  believe  you  would  n't  see  it.  But  I  should  ; 
I  have  a  hideous  sense  of  the  ridiculous.  Well,  lemme 
see.  He  must  have  read  and  travelled  and  thought  a 
lot,  so  that  he  would  know  more  than  I,  and  I  could 
look  up  to  him ;  also  that  subjects  of  conversation 
would  not  give  out.  The  platitudes  of  love  !  That 
would  be  fatal." 

"  I  don't  believe  they  ever  sound  like  platitudes." 

"  Hm  !  I  won't  undertake  to  discuss  that  point, 
knowing  my  limitations.  What  next?  He  must  have 
suffered.  That  gives  a  man  weight,  as  the  sculptors 
say.  My  quartette  will  be  much  more  interesting  to 
the  next  divinity  than  they  are  to  me.  Then  of  course 
he  must  have  charming  manners  and  an  agreeable 
voice  :  I  could  not  stand  the  brain  of  a  Bismark  in  the 
skull  of  an  Apollo  if  he  had  a  nasal  American  voice.  I 
believe  that 's  all.  I  'm  not  so  particular  about  looks, 
so  long  as  he  's  neither  small  nor  fat." 

"  And  if  you  found  all  that  would  n't  you  marry 
it?" 

"N-o-o  —  I   don't  know  —  but  I'd  be  engaged  a 


212  The  Californians 

good  long  time.      You  see  I  want  to  be  a  belle  for 
years  and  years." 

"  And  what  is  to  become  of  the  poor  men  when  you 
are  through  with  them?" 

"  Oh,  they  '11  get  over  it.  I  shall.  Why  should  n't 
they?" 

"  I  thought  you  said  once  you  wanted  to  marry  a 
statesman.'' 

"  Sometimes  I  do,  and  sometimes  I  don't.  I  '11  con 
sider  that  question  ten  years  hence.  I  want  to  be  a 
perfectly  famous  belle  first." 

"You  are  that  already." 

"  Oh,  I  must  have  a  season  in  New  York,  and  another 
in  Washington,  and  another  in  London.  The  gods 
have  given  me  all  the  gifts,  and  I  intend  to  make  the 
most  of  them.  Now  let 's  read  a  chapter  of  Motley 
out  loud,  and  if  I  jump  off  to  other  things  you  jerk  me 
back.  Let 's  finish  Pater,  though.  It 's  like  lying 
under  a  cascade  of  bubbles  on  a  hot  summer's  day. 
My  brains  are  addled  between  trying  to  be  well  read 
and  trying  to  keep  four  men  from  proposing.  You  read 
aloud,  and  I  '11  brush  my  hair.  No,  I  '11  embroider 
on  papa's  mouchoir  case  ;  I  've  been  at  it  for  thirteen 
months.  Oh,  by  the  bye,  I  did  n't  tell  you  that  I  had  a 
brilliant  idea.  It  darted  into  my  head  just  as  I  was 
dropping  off  last  night.  I  forgot  to  speak  about  it  to 
papa  this  morning,  but  I  will  to-night.  It 's  this  :  I  'm 
going  to  give  a  ball  at  Del  Monte.  Take  everybody 
down  on  a  special  train.  Don't  you  think  it  will  be  a 
change?  The  spring  has  come  so  early  that  we  can 


The  Californians  213 

have  the  grounds  lit  up  with  Chinese  lanterns;  and 
there  may  be  some  Eastern  men  there.  There  often 
are.  So  much  the  better  for  my  ball  —  and  me.  Now 
read." 


VII 

TRENNAHAN  arrived  late  in  the  evening,  and  went 
directly  to  the  Yorbas'  to  dinner.  He  saw  Magdalena 
alone  for  a  moment  before  the  others  came  downstairs, 
and  his  delight  at  meeting  her  again  was  so  boyish 
that  she  could  hardly  have  recalled  his  eventful  forty 
years  had  she  tried.  He  was  one  of  those  men,  who, 
having  a  great  deal  of  nervous  energy,  are  possessed 
briefly  by  the  high  animal  spirits  of  youth  when  in 
unusual  mental  and  physical  tenor,  —  with  coincident 
obliteration  of  the  bills  of  time.  Trennahan  was  in 
the  highest  spirits  this  evening.  He  was  delighted  to 
get  back  to  California,  delighted  to  see  Magdalena, 
whom  he  thought  improved  and  almost  pretty  in  her 
smart  frock.  Moreover,  no  woman  had  ever  seemed 
to  him  half  so  sincere,  half  so  well  worth  the  loving, 
as  this  girl  who  said  so  little  and  breathed  so 
much. 

Don  Roberto  and  Mr.  Polk  detained  him  some  time 
after  dinner,  and  Magdalena,  who  thought  them  most 
inconsiderate,  awaited  him  in  the  green-and-brown 
reception-room.  She  knew  the  ugliness  of  these  rooms 
now,  and  wondered,  as  Trennahan  finally  entered,  if 


214  The  Californians 

it  clashed  with  his  sentiment.  But  he  gave  no  sign, 
He  pushed  a  small  sofa  before  the  fire,  drew  her  be 
side  him,  and  demanded  the  history  of  the  past  four 
months.  He  held  her  hand  and  looked  at  her  with 
boyish  delight.  Even  the  lines  had  left  his  face  for 
the  moment,  the  grimness  his  mouth.  He  looked 
twenty-six. 

"  Your  trip  has  done  you  more  good  than  California 
did.  You  never  looked  so  well  here." 

"  I  have  been  funereal  since  the  day  I  left.  This  is 
pure  reaction.  I  never  felt  so  happy  in  my  life. 
Could  n't  we  have  a  walk  or  ride  somewhere  to-morrow 
early  —  out  to  the  Presidio?  I  want  to  be  in  the  open 
air  with  you." 

"  I  am  afraid  we  could  n't.  Nobody  does  such 
things,  you  know  —  except  Helena.  Someone  would 
be  sure  to  see  us,  and  it  would  be  all  over  town  before 
night.  Then  we  should  have  to  announce  —  I  'd 
rather  not  do  that  until  just  before  —  I  should  hate 
being  discussed." 

"  Well,  but  I  must  have  you  to  myself  in  my  own 
way.  I  wonder  if  your  mother  would  bring  you  down 
to  my  house  for  a  few  days.  Don  Roberto  and  Mr. 
Polk  could  come  down  every  evening." 

"  I  think  they  would  like  it." 

"And  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  it.  The  woods  must  be  lovely 
in  winter." 

"Who  has  been  teaching  you  coquetry?  Who  has 
fallen  in  love  with  you  since  I  left?" 


The  Californians  215 

"  With  me  ?  No  one.  No  one  would  ever  think  of 
such  a  thing  but  you  —  " 

"  I  love  you  with  an  unerring  instinct." 

"  They  are  all  in  love  with  Helena.  I  suppose  you 
heard  of  her  in  New  York." 

"  It  certainly  was  not  your  fault  if  I  did  not." 

"  But  surely  you  must  have  heard  otherwise.  She  is 
a  great,  great  belle." 

"  My  dearest  girl,  you  do  not  hear  California  men 
tioned  in  New  York  once  a  month.  It  might  be  on 
Mars.  The  East  remembers  California's  existence 
about  as  often  as  Europe  remembers  America's.  They 
don't  know  what  they  miss.  When  am  I  to  see  your 
Helena?" 

"  A  week  from  to-night ;  she  gives  a  ball  then  at 
Del  Monte.  She  and  her  father  have  already  gone, 
because  each  thought  the  other  needed  rest." 

"Monterey, —  that  is  the  scene  of  your  Ysabel's 
tragedy.  We  will  explore  the  old  part  of  the  town 
together." 

She  moved  closer  to  him,  her  eyes  glistening. 
"  That  has  been  one  of  my  dreams,  —  to  be  there  with 
you  —  for  the  first  time.  We  can  guess  where  they  all 
lived  —  and  go  to  the  cemetery  on  the  hill  where  so 
many  are  buried  —  and  there  is  the  Custom  House  on 
the  rocks,  where  the  ball  was  and  where  Ysabel  jumped 
off — it  will  be  heaven  !  " 

He  laughed  and  caught  her  in  his  arms,  kissing  her 
fondly.  "  You  dear  little  Spanish  maid,"  he  said. 
"You  don't  belong  to  the  present  at  all.  No  wonder 


2i6  The  Californians 

you  bewitched  me.  I  am  beginning  to  feel  quite  out 
of  place  in  the  present,  myself.  It  is  a  novel  and 
delightful  sensation." 


VIII 

MRS.  YORBA  decided  that  it  would  be  wiser  for  them 
all  to  go  to  Fair  Oaks ;  no  one  would  know  whether 
Trennahan  were  their  guest  or  not.  This  was  her  first 
really  gay  winter,  and  could  she  have  thought  of  a 
plausible  excuse  she  would  have  delayed  the  marriage 
for  a  year  or  two.  But  both  Don  Roberto  and  Tren 
nahan  were  determined  that  the  wedding  should  not 
take  place  later  than  June. 

They  were  to  spend  five  days  at  Fair  Oaks.  Then 
Don  Roberto,  Mrs.  Yorba,  and  Magdalena  would  go 
to  Monterey,  Trennahan  to  follow  on  the  evening 
of  the  ball. 

The  winter  woods  were  wet  and  glistening.  Thick 
in  the  brush  were  the  vivid  red  berries  and  the  firm 
little  snowballs.  The  air  was  of  a  wonderful  freshness 
and  fragrance,  cool  on  the  cheek,  but  striking  no  chill 
to  the  blood.  The  grass  tips  in  the  meadows  were 
close  and  green.  There  was  no  haze  on  the  distant 
mountains  :  the  redwoods  stood  out  sharply  ;  one  could 
almost  see  the  sun  baldes  crossing  in  their  gloomy 
aisles.  Close  to  the  ground  was  a  low,  restless,  con 
tinuous  mutter,  —  the  voluntary  of  Spring. 

Trennahan  and  Magdalena  rode  or  strolled  in  the 


The  Californians  217 

woods  during  most  of  the  hours  of  light.  They  could 
not  sit  on  the  damp  ground,  but  they  swung  hammocks 
by  the  path-side  to  sit  in  when  tired.  Trennahan  would 
have  slept  on  the  verandah  had  not  his  enthusiasm  for 
outdoor  delights  been  controlled  by  his  matter-of-fact 
brain,  but  he  grudged  the  hours  at  table,  and  persuaded 
Magdale"na  to  go  early  to  bed  that  she  might  rise  and 
go  forth  at  five  in  the  evening  of  night.  After  four 
months  of  snow  and  nipping  winds  and  furnace  heat, 
small  wonder  that  he  was  as  happy  as  a  boy  out  of 
school,  and  that  he  made  Magdalena  the  most  wonder- 
ingly  happy  of  women.  He  did  little  love-making ;  he 
treated  her  more  as  a  comrade  upon  whose  constant 
companionship  he  was  dependent  for  happiness,  —  his 
other  part,  with  which  he  was  far  better  satisfied  than 
with  the  original  measure. 

"  We  will  camp  out  up  there  during  all  of  July  and 
August,"  he  said  to  her  one  morning,  as  they  stood  on 
the  edge  of  the  woods  and  watched  the  rising  sun  pick 
out  the  redwoods  one  by  one  from  the  black  mass  on 
the  mountain.  "  I  can't  imagine  a  more  enchanting 
place  for  a  honeymoon  than  a  redwood  forest.  We  '11 
take  a  servant,  and  a  lot  of  books ;  but  I  doubt  if  we 
shall  read  much,  —  we  '11  shoot  and  fish  all  day.  If 
we  like  it  as  much  as  I  am  sure  we  shall,  we  '11 
build  a  house  there.  Do  you  think  you  should  like 
it?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  !     I  should  !  " 

"  You  are  so  sympathetic  in  your  own  particular  way ; 
not  temperamentally  so,  which  is  pleasant  but  means 


2i 8  The  Califormans 

little,  but  with  a  slow,  sure  understanding  which  goes 
forth   to  few  people,  but  is  unerring  and  permanent." 
"  I  love  no  one  but  you  and   Helena.     I  have  never 
cared  to  understand  anyone  else." 

"  We  all  have  great  weaknesses   in  us.      I  wonder 

if  mine  were  ever  revealed  to  you  —  which  God  forbid  ! 

—  if  you  have  sympathy  enough  to  cover  those,  too." 

"I  am  sure  that  I   have.     I  am  neither  quick  nor 

generally  affectionate,  but  I  do  nothing  by  halves." 

"  I  believe  you.  You  are  the  one  person  on  whose 
mercy  I  would  throw  myself.  However,  —  it  is  a  long 
time  since  we  have  spoken  of  another  subject.  Do 
you  think  no  further  of  writing?" 

"  I  have  n't  lately.  There  has  been  no  time.  Some 
day —  Oh,  yes,  I  think  I  should  never  wholly  give  it 
up.  Should  —  should  you  object?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  But  I  am  afraid  I  sha'n't  give 
you  much  time,  either.  What  were  you  writing,  — 
your  Old-California  tales?" 

"  No,  —  an —  an  historical  novel  —  English." 
"  Of  course  !  And  with  fresh  and  fascinating  material 
begging  for  its  turn.  I  arrived  in  the  nick  of  time. 
When  you  have  transcribed  those  stories  into  cor 
rect  and  distinguished  English,  you  will  have  taken 
your  place  among  the  immortals.  But  style  alone  will 
give  you  a  place  in  letters  worth  having.  Always  re 
member  that.  The  theme  determines  popular  success, 
the  manner  rank.  Don't  misunderstand  me ;  there  is 
no  greater  fraud  or  bore  than  the  writer  who  has  ac 
quired  the  art  of  saying  nothing  brilliantly.  You  must 


The  Californians  219 

have  both.  And  you  are  too  ambitious,  too  intellectual, 
as  distinguished  from  clever,  too  serious  and  logical,  to 
be  contented  with  anything  short  of  perfection.  I 
shall  be  your  severest  critic  •  but  you  yourself  will 
work  for  years  before  you  produce  a  line  with  which 
you  are  wholly  satisfied.  Is  not  this  true?  " 
"  Yes  ;  I  should  always  be  my  severest  critic." 
He  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  He  had  no  desire 
for  a  literary  wife ;  nor  to  be  known  as  the  husband 
cf  one.  Magdale"na  should  be  as  happy  as  he  could 
make  her,  but  the  sooner  she  realised  that  genius  was 
not  her  portion,  the  better. 


IX 

"  NEVER  I  think  I  come  to  Monterey  again,"  said  Don 
Roberto,  as  the  'bus  which  contained  his  party  only 
drove  from  the  little  toy  station  to  the  big  toy  hotel. 
"  Once  I  hate  all  the  Spanish  towns,  because  so  extrava 
gant  I  am  before  that  I  feel  'fraid,  si  I  return,  I  am  all 
the  same  like  then  ;  but  now  I  am  old  and  the  habits 
fixit ;  and  now  I  know  my  moneys  go  to  be  safe  with 
Trennahan,  I  feel  more  easy  in  the  mind  and  can  enjoy. 
But  I  no  go  to  the  town,  for  all  is  change,  I  suppose  : 
all  the  womens  grown  old  and  poor,  and  all  the  mens 
dead  —  by  the  drink,  generalmente.  Very  fortunate  I 
am  I  no  stay  there  ;  meeting  Eeram  in  time.  Ay,  yi ! 
What  kind  de  house  is  this?  Look  like  paper,  and  the 
grounds  so  artifeecial.  No  like  much." 


220  The  Californians 

Magdalena  hardly  knew  her  father  these  last  months. 
From  the  day  that  he  found  a  reminiscent  pleasure  in 
the  mild  diversions  of  Menlo  he  had  visibly  softened. 
From  the  day  he  was  assured  of  Trennahan  he  had 
become  almost  expansive,  and  at  times  was  moved  to 
generosity.  Upon  one  occasion  he  had  doubled  Mag- 
dalena's  allowance,  and  at  Christmas  he  had  given  her 
a  hundred  dollars ;  and  he  had  paid  the  bills  of  the 
season  without  a  murmur.  The  fear  which  had  haunted 
him  during  the  last  thirty  years,  —  that  he  should  sud 
denly  relapse  into  his  native  extravagance  and  squan 
der  his  patrimony  and  his  accumulated  millions,  dying  as 
the  companions  of  his  youth  had  died,  —  he  dismissed 
after  he  met  Trennahan.  Polk  had  been  the  iron  mine 
to  the  voracious  magnet  in  his  character.  In  the  natu 
ral  course  of  things  Polk  would  outlive  him ;  but  the 
possibility  of  Folk's  extermination  by  railroad  accident 
or  small-pox  had  been  a  second  devil  of  torment,  and 
during  the  past  year  he  had  visibly  failed.  Now,  how 
ever,  there  was  Trennahan  to  take  his  place.  Don 
Roberto  would  enjoy  life  once  more,  a  second  youth. 
He  was  almost  happy.  If  he  felt  his  will  rotting,  he 
would  transfer  all  his  vast  interests  to  Trennahan  in 
trust  for  his  wife  and  daughter,  retaining  a  large  in 
come.  He  did  not  believe,  at  this  optimistic  period, 
that  there  was  any  real  danger,  after  an  inflexible  resist 
ance  of  thirty  years ;  but  he  also  realised  for  the  first 
time  what  the  strain  of  those  thirty  years  had  been. 

Helena,  dazzlingly  fair  in  a  frock  oi  forest  green, 
and  surrounded  by  five  new  admirers,  three  Eastern 


The  Californians  221 

and  two  English  tourists,  awaited  Magdale"na  on  the 
verandah.  The  strangers  gave  Magdale"na  a  faint 
shock  :  being  the  only  well-dressed  men  she  had  ever 
seen  except  Trennahan,  they  assumed  a  family  likeness 
to  him,  and  seemed  to  steal  something  of  his  pre 
eminence  among  men.  She  commented  distantly  on 
this  fact  as  she  went  up  the  stair  with  Helena. 

"  Oh,  your  little  tin  god  on  wheels  is  not  the  only 
one,"  replied  Helena,  the  astute.  "  There  are  five 
here  with  possibilities  besides  dress,  and  more  coming 
to-morrow.  They  are  such  a  relief!  If  I  feel  real 
wicked  to-morrow  night  —  well,  never  mind  !  " 

"  Helena  !  You  will  not  make  those  four  young 
men  any  more  miserable  than  they  are  now?" 

Helena  shook  her  head.  She  was  looking  very 
naughty.  "  Four  months,  my  dear  !  I  did  n't  realise 
what  I  had  endured  until  I  had  this  sudden  vacation. 
Two  days  of  blissful  rest,  and  then  the  variations  for 
which  I  was  born." 

They  were  in  Helena's  room,  and  Magdale"na  sat 
down  by  the  open  window,  where  she  could  smell  the 
cypresses,  and  regarded  her  beloved  friend  more 
critically  than  was  her  habit. 

"I  wonder  if  you  will  ever  mature, — get  any 
heart?  "  she  said. 

"  'Le'na  !  What  do  you  mean  !  Heart?  Don't  I  love 
you  and  my  father ;  and  the  other  girls  —  some  ?  " 

"I  don't  mean  that  kind.  Nor  falling  in  love, 
either.  I  never  expressed  myself  very  well,  but  you 
know  what  I  mean." 


222  The  Californians 

"  Oh,  bother.  What  were  men  and  women  made 
for  but  to  amuse  each  other?" 

"  Life  is  n't  all  play." 

"  It  is  for  a  time  —  when  you  're  young.  I  am 
sure  that  that  is  what  Nature  intended,  and  that  the 
people  who  don't  see  it  are  those  who  make  the 
mistakes  with  their  lives.  Otherwise  life  would  be 
simply  outrageous,  —  no  balance,  no  compensation. 
After  a  certain  age  even  fools  become  serious  :  they 
can't  help  it,  for  life  begins  to  take  its  revenge  for 
permitting  them  to  be  young  at  all,  and  to  hope,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  Therefore  those  that  don't 
make  the  most  of  youth  and  all  that  goes  with  it  are 
something  more  than  fools." 

Magdal£na  looked  at  her  in  dismay.  "How  do 
you  realise  that,  at  your  age?  I  have  lived  alone, 
thought  more  —  had  more  time  to  think  and  to 
read  —  but  I  never  should  —  " 

"  I  have  intuitions.  And  I  Ve  seen  more  of  the 
world  than  you  have.  I  see  everything  that  goes  on  — 
you  can  bet  your  life  on  that.  Talk  about  my  powers 
of  concentration  !  They  're  nothing  to  my  antennae." 

"  But  have  you  no  principles  of  right  and  wrong  ? 
No  morality?  You  would  not  deliberately  sacrifice 
others  to  your  own  pleasure,  would  you  ? " 

"  Would  n't  I  ?  I  don't  take  the  least  pleasure  in 
cruelty,  like  some  women.  If  I  could  give  people 
oblivion  draughts,  I  'd  do  it  in  a  minute  —  for  my 
vanity  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  either.  But  the 
world  is  at  my  feet,  and  there  it  shall  stay,  no  matter 


The  Californians  223 

who  pays  the  piper.  I  love  life.  I  love  everything 
about  it.  I  've  never  seen  anything  in  the  world  I 
thought  ugly.  I  don't  think  anything  is  ugly.  If  it 
was,  I  should  hate  it.  I  've  never  been  through  a  slum, 
—  a  horrid  slum,  that  is,  —  and  I  don't  want  to.  The 
beauty  of  the  earth  intoxicates  me.  When  I  even  think 
about  it,  much  less  look  at  it,  I  feel  perfectly  wild 
with  delight  to  think  that  I  am  alive.  And  my  senses 
are  so  keen.  I  see  so  far.  I  can  hear  miles.  I  be 
lieve  I  can  hear  the  grass  grow.  I  eat  and  drink  little, 
but  that  little  gives  me  delight.  A  glass  of  cold  spring 
water  intoxicates  me.  And,  above  all,  I  enjoy  being 
loved.  I  never  forget  how  much  you  and  papa  love 
me.  I  could  n't  exist  without  either  of  you.  Papa  is 
looking  much  better  since  he  came  down.  Don't  you 
think  so?  And  I  like  to  see  love  in  the  eyes  of  men 
I  don't  care  a  rap  about.  Their  eyes  are  like  imper 
sonal  mirrors  for  me  to  read  the  secrets  of  the  future 
in.  And  I  don't  really  hurt  them.  Most  men  have  a 
lot  of  superfluous  love  in  them.  I  may  as  well  have 
it  as  another.  It  won't  interfere  with  the  destination 
of  the  reserve  in  the  least." 

"  Helena  !  "  exclaimed  Magdalena,  with  a  sinking 
heart.  "I  believe  you  are  a  genius." 

"  I  have  the  genius  of  personality,  but  I  could  n't 
do  a  thing  to  save  my  life." 

Magdalena  breathed  freely  again. 


224  'The,  Californians 


X 

TRENNAHAN,  who  was  to  have  arrived  in  time  to 
dine  with  the  Belmonts  and  Yorbas,  missed  his  train 
and  took  his  dinner  alone.  Afterward,  he  saw  Magda- 
l£na  for  a  few  moments  in  the  Yorbas'  private  parlour, 
but  she  had  to  dress,  and  he  went  off  to  smoke  in  the 
grounds  with  Don  Roberto,  Mr.  Polk,  Mr.  Washington, 
and  Colonel  Belmont.  They  subsequently  had  a  game 
of  bowls,  and  —  excepting  Colonel  Belmont  —  several 
cocktails.  When  they  suddenly  remembered  that  a 
ball  was  in  progress  to  which  they  were  expected,  it 
was  eleven  o'clock,  and  Trennahan  was  not  dressed. 

It  was  Helena's  ball,  but  she  had  made  every  man 
promise  to  look  after  the  wall-flowers,  that  she  might 
be  at  liberty  to  enjoy  herself.  Her  aunt,  Mrs.  Yorba, 
and  Magdale"na  received  with  her;  and  as  all  the 
guests  had  arrived  by  the  same  train,  and  had  dressed 
at  about  the  same  time,  the  arduous  duty  of  receiving 
was  soon  over.  Helena  left  the  stragglers  to  her 
chaperons  and  prepared  to  amuse  herself.  As  usual, 
she  had  refused  to  engage  herself  for  any  dances,  but 
she  gave  the  first  two  to  her  devoted  four,  then  an 
nounced  her  intention  to  dance  no  more  for  the 
present.  The  truth  was  that  one  of  her  minute  high- 
heeled  slippers  pinched,  but  this  she  had  no  intention 
of  acknowledging;  if  men  wished  to  think  her  an 
angel,  so  they  should.  She  was  a  sensible  person,  far 
too  practical  to  reduce  the  sum  of  her  happiness  by 


The  Californians  225 

physical  discomfort ;  but  the  slippers,  which  she  had 
never  tried  on,  matched  her  gown,  and  she  had  no 
others  with  her  that  did.  But  the  one  rift  in  her  lute 
induced  a  sympathetic  rift  in  her  temper. 

The  party  was  very  gay  and  pretty.  The  rooms 
had  been  fantastically  decorated  with  red  berries  and 
snowballs,  pine,  and  cedar.  The  leader  of  the  band 
was  in  that  stage  of  intoxication  which  promised  mu 
sic  to  make  the  soles  of  the  dado  tingle.  All  the  girls 
had  brought  their  prettiest  frocks,  and  all  the  matrons 
their  diamonds.  There  were  no  tiaras  in  the  Eighties, 
but  there  were  a  few  necklaces,  stars,  and  ear-rings  — 
of  the  vulgar  variety  known  as  "  solitaires."  It  is  true 
that  certain  of  the  Fungi  looked  like  crystal  chande 
liers  upon  occasion ;  but  Helena  would  have  none  of 
them. 

Herself  had  rarely  been  more  lovely,  —  in  floating 
clouds  of  pale  pink  tulle,  which  looked  like  a  shower 
of  almond  blossoms.  Her  hair  was  roped  up  with 
pearls,  hinting  the  head-dress  of  Juliet,  but  stopping 
short  of  eccentric  effect.  She  wore  nothing  to  break 
the  lines  of  her  throat  and  neck,  but  on  her  arms  were 
quantities  of  odd  and  beautiful  "  bangles,"  many  made 
from  her  own  suggestions,  others  picked  up  in  different 
parts  of  the  world. 

She  was  standing  opposite  the  door  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  as  Trennahan  entered,  leaning  lightly 
upon  a  little  table  to  rest  her  mischievous  foot.  Only 
one  man  was  beside  her  at  the  moment,  and  Tren- 
nahan's  view  of  her  was  uninterrupted.  He  knew  at 
15 


226  The  Califormans 

once  who  she  was.  His  second  impression  was  that 
he  had  seen  few  girls  so  beautiful.  His  third,  that 
she  possessed  something  more  potent  than  beauty, 
and  that  he  was  responding  to  it  with  a  certain  wild 
flurry  of  the  senses,  and  a  certain  glad  exultation  in 
youth  and  danger  which  had  not  been  his  portion  for 
many  a  long  year.  The  instinct  of  the  hunter  leaped 
from  its  tomb,  shocked  into  the  eager  quivering  life 
of  its  youth.  Trennahan  was  appalled  to  hear  the 
fine  web  he  had  spun  between  his  senses  and  his 
spirit  rent  in  a  second,  then  gratified  at  the  youthful 
singing  in  his  blood.  The  old  joy  in  recklessness,  in 
surrender  to  the  delirium  of  the  senses,  came  back 
to  him.  He  pushed  them  roughly  aside,  and  looked 
about  for  Magdale'na.  She  was  listening  to  the  rapid 
delivery  of  Mr.  Rollins.  He  thought  she  looked  ill, 
and  was  about  to  go  to  her  when  Colonel  Belmont 
took  him  by  the  arm. 

"  You  must  meet  my  daughter,"  he  said.  "  Oh, 
bother  !  There  go  half  a  dozen." 

When  Trennahan  reached  Helena,  he  was  presented 
in  the  same  breath  with  two  other  new  arrivals,  and  her 
slipper  was  fairly  biting.  She  did  not  even  hear  his 
name.  She  was  in  a  mood  to  make  her  swains  un 
happy  ;  and  she  liked  Trennahan's  face,  and  what  she 
saw  there.  There  was  eager  admiration  in  his  eyes 
and  nostrils,  and  on  his  face  the  record  of  a  man  who 
might  possibly  be  her  match.  Of  man's  deeper  and 
more  personal  life  she  never  thought.  She  had  heard 
that  men  sometimes  loved  married  women,  and  others 


The  Californians  227 

whose  like  she  had  never  seen  ;  but  she  hated  the 
mere  fact  of  vice  as  she  did  all  forms  of  ugliness,  and 
dismissed  it  from  her  mind.  She  read  in  Trennahan's 
face  that  he  had  had  many  flirtations,  nothing  more. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  dance  any  more  to-night,"  she 
announced.  She  placed  her  hand  in  Trennahan's 
arm.  "Take  me  to  the  conservatory,"  she  said. 

There  was  really  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  take 
her.  But  it  was  three  hours  before  either  was  seen 
again. 

XI 

"  You  are  not  looking  well  this  morning,"  said  Tren- 
nahan,  solicitously,  about  twelve  hours  after  he  had 
appeared  in  the  ball-room.  He  had  just  entered 
the  Yorbas'  private  parlour. 

"  Neither  do  you,"  replied  Magdale"na. 

"  I  sat  up  late  with  some  of  the  men,  and  slept  ill 
after." 

Magdale'na  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him 
steadily.  "  You  have  fallen  in  love  with  Helena," 
she  said. 

"  What  nonsense  !  My  dear  child,  what  are  you 
talking  about?  Miss  Belmont  asked  me  to  take  her 
to  the  conservatory ;  and  as  I  do  not  dance,  and  as 
you  do,  and  as  she  announced  her  intention  of  not 
dancing  again,  and  is  a  very  entertaining  young 
woman,  I  decided  to  remain  there.  If  our  engage 
ment  had  been  made  known,  of  course  I  should 
have  done  nothing  of  the  sort.  But  as  it  was  — " 


228  The  Californians 

"You  turned  white  when  you  first  saw  her.  Alan 
Rush  looked  just  like  that.  Now  he  is  mad  about 
her." 

"  I  am  not  Alan  Rush,  nor  any  other  boy  of  twenty- 
five.  The  man  you  have  elected  to  marry,  and  who  is 
not  half  good  enough  for  you,  as  I  have  told  you  many 
times,  is  a  seasoned  person  past  middle  age,  my  dear 
est.  I  could  not  go  off  my  head  over  a  pretty  face  if 
I  tried.  My  day  for  that  is  long  past." 

He  spoke  vehemently. 

"  You  never  looked  at  me  like  that.3' 

"Doubtless  my  pallor  was  due  to  some  such  un- 
romantic  cause  as  an  extremely  bad  dinner." 

"  I  have  seen  that  look  several  times.  Alan  Rush 
is  not  the  only  one.  And  Helena  is  no  doll.  She 
has  every  fascination." 

"  Possibly.  Shall  we  go  for  our  walk  ?  I  am  most 
anxious  to  see  those  old  houses  and  graves." 

He  did  not  offer  to  kiss  her.  She  was  too  proud 
to  take  up  woman's  usual  refrain.  She  put  on  her  hat, 
and  they  left  the  hotel,  and  walked  toward  the  town. 

"I  believe  the  cemetery  comes  first,"  she  said.  "I 
have  made  inquiries.  We  can  see  the  town  from  there, 
and  go  on  afterward  —  if  you  like." 

"  Of  course  I  like.  How  good  of  you  to  wait  for 
me  !  I  know  you  have  been  longing  for  the  town  which 
I  am  convinced  is  a  part  of  your  very  personality." 

"Yes,  I  have  been  longing.  I  don't  care  much 
about  it  this  morning." 

"  Which  of  your  heroines  is  buried  in  the  cemetery  ?  " 


The  Californians  229 

"  Benicia  Ortega,  La  Tulita,  and  some  of  aunt's 
old  friends." 

"  You  must  certainly  write  those  old  stories.  I  often 
think  of  them." 

"  Nothing  that  you  say  this  morning  sounds  like  the 
truth." 

"  My  dear  girl !  I  am  dull  and  stupid  after  a  sleep 
less  night.  And  the  night  after  you  left  I  sat  up  until 
two  in  the  morning  writing  important  letters." 

"  I  think  it  was  disloyal  of  Helena." 

"  I  must  rush  to  her  defence.  She  did  not  know 
until  the  end  of  the  evening  who  I  was.  She  took  me 
for  one  of  the  several  Easterners  who  arrived  to-day. 
Two  of  them  brought  letters  to  her  father  from  Mr. 
Forbes.  One  was  the  son  of  an  old  friend.  As  her 
father  presented  me  —  " 

Magdale"na  faced  about.  "  And  you  did  not  tell 
her?  You  did  not  speak  of  me?" 

"  I  am  going  to  be  perfectly  frank,  knowing  how 
sensible  you  are.  I  had  a  desperate  flirtation  with 
your  friend,  as  desperate  and  meaningless  as  those 
things  always  are  ;  for  it  is  merely  an  invention  to  pass 
the  idler  hours  of  society.  There  was  nothing  else  to 
do,  so  we  flirted.  It  added  to  the  zest  to  keep  her  in 
ignorance  of  my  identity.  It  was  a  silly  pastime,  but 
better  than  nothing.  I  should  far  rather  have  been 
in  bed.  If  I  could  have  talked  to  you,  it  would  have 
been  quite  another  matter." 

Magdaldna  hurried  on  ahead.  He  had  the  tact  not 
to  accelerate  his  own  steps.  After  a  time  she  fell  back. 
She  said. — 


230  The  Californians 

"What  is  this  'flirtation,'  anyhow?  I  have  heard 
nothing  but  '  flirtation  '  all  winter,  and  I  heard  a  good 
deal  of  it  last  summer.  But  I  have  not  the  slightest 
idea  what  it  means.  What  do  you  do?" 

"  Do  ?  Oh  —  I  —  it  is  impossible  to  define  flirtation. 
You  must  have  the  instinct  to  understand.  Then  you 
would  n't  ask.  Thank  Heaven  you  never  will  under 
stand.  Flirtation  is  to  love-making  what  soda-water  is 
to  champagne.  I  can  think  of  no  better  definition 
than  that." 

"  Did  you  kiss  Helena?  " 

"  Good  God,  no  !  That 's  not  flirtation.  She  is  not 
the  sort  that  would  let  me  if  I  wished." 

"Did  you  hold  her  hand?" 

"  I  have  held  no  woman's  hand  but  yours  for  an  in 
calculable  time." 

"  Did  you  tell  her  that  you  loved  her?  " 

"  Certainly  not !  " 

"  I  must  say  I  can't  see  how  a  flirtation  differs 
from  an  ordinary  conversation." 

"  It  only  does  in  that  subtle  something  which  cannot 
be  explained." 

Magdale"na  had  an  inspiration.  "  Perhaps  you  talk 
with  your  eyes  some." 

"  Well,  you  are  not  altogether  wrong.  Did  you  ever 
see  a  fencing  match?  Imagine  two  invisible  personal 
ities  dodging  and  doubling,  springing  and  darting. 
That  will  give  you  some  idea.  And  all  without  a 
flutter  of  passion  or  real  interest.  It  is  good  exercise 
for  the  lighter  wits,  but  stupid  at  best."  He  did  not 


The  Californians  231 

add  that  the  very  essence  of  flirtation  is  its  promise 
of  more  to  come. 

It  was  some  time  before  Magdatena  spoke  again. 
Then  she  asked, — 

"  What  did  Helena  say  when  you  told  her  your 
name?" 

"  I  believe  she  said,  '  Great  Heaven  ! '  " 

"  I  think  this  must  be  the  cemetery." 

They  ascended  the  rough  hill,  and  pushed  their  way 
through  weeds  and  thistles  and  wild  oats  to  the  dilapi 
dated  stones  under  the  oaks.  Magdale"na  had  imagined 
her  conflicting  emotions  when  she  visited  the  graves  of 
her  youthful  heroines  ;  among  other  things  the  delight 
ful  sense  of  unreality.  But  the  unreality  was  of  another 
sort  to-day.  They  were  a  part  of  an  insignificant  past. 
Trennahan  elevated  one  foot  to  a  massive  stone  and 
plucked  the  "  stickers  "  from  his  trousers. 

"This  is  all  very  romantic,"  he  said,  "  but  these  con 
founded  things  are  uncomfortable.  Have  you  found 
your  graves  ?  " 

"  I  think  this  is  Benicia's.     We  can  go  if  you  like." 

"By  no  means."  He  went  and  leaned  over  the 
sunken  grey  stone  which  recorded  the  legend  of  Beni- 
cia  Ortega's  brief  life  and  tragic  death,  then  insisted 
upon  finding  the  others. 

"  You  don't  take  any  interest,"  said  Magdalena. 
"Why  do  you  pretend?" 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  seated  her  on  the 
highest  and  driest  of  the  tombs,  then  sat  beside  her. 
He  kept  his  arm  about  her,  but  he  did  not  kiss 


232  The  Californians 

her.  "  Come  now,"  he  said,  "  let  us  have  it  out.  We 
must  not  quarrel.  I  humble  myself  to  the  dust.  I 
vow  to  be  a  saint.  I  will  not  exchange  two  consecutive 
sentences  with  your  friend  in  the  future.  Make  me 
promise  all  sorts  of  things." 

"If  you  love  her,  you  can't  help  yourself." 
"  I  have  no  intention  of  loving  her.  Perhaps  you 
will  be  as  sweet  and  sensible  as  you  always  are,  and 
not  say  anything  so  absurd  again.  I  am  deeply  sorry 
that  I  have  offended  you.  Will  you  believe  that? 
And  will  you  forgive  me?" 

" Do  you  mean  that  you  still  wish  to  marry  me? " 
"  Great  Heaven,  'Lena !  Even  if  my  head  were 
turned,  do  you  think  that  I  have  not  brains  enough 
to  remember  that  that  sort  of  thing  is  a  matter  of 
the  hour  only,  and  that  I  am  a  man  of  honour?  I 
have  no  less  intention  of  marrying  you  to-day  than 
I  had  yesterday.  Does  that  satisfy  you?  And  — 
since  you  take  it  so  hardly  —  I  wish  I  might  never 
see  Miss  Belmont  again." 

Magdalena  raised  her  eyes ;  they  were  full  of  tears. 
Her  hat  was  pushed  back,  her  soft  hair  ruffled.  In 
the  deep  shade  of  the  oaks  and  with  the  passion  in 
her  face  she  looked  prettier  than  he  had  ever  seen 
her.  A  kiss  sprang  to  her  lips.  He  bent  his  head 
swiftly  and  caught  it ;  and  then  he  was  delighted  at 
the  depth  of  his  penitence. 

"  'Lena,  you  ought  to  hate  me,  but  I  did  n't  know  ! 
I  swear  I  didn't!" 


The  Californians  233 

"I  know  you  did  not.  He  told  me  that  it  was 
entirely  his  fault,  and  I  have  forgiven  him ;  so  don't 
let  us  say  any  more  about  it." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  he  admitted  that.  I  'm  pretty 
selfish,  as  I  Ve  never  denied,  but  I  'd  never  be  dis 
loyal.  Not  to  you,  anyhow,"  she  added  on  second 
thoughts.  "  I  should  n't  mind  Ila  so  much,  nor 
Caro." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  would  take  any  girl's 
lover  away  from  her,  Helena?" 

"  Yes,  I  would  if  I  wanted  him  badly.  But  I  'd  do 
it  right  out  before  her  face.  I  'd  never  be  under 
hand  about  it.  I  loathe  deceit.  I  was  furious  for 
a  time  with  Mr.  Trennahan  last  night,  but  I  really 
believe  I  was  more  furious  because  he  was  the  most 
interesting  man  I  had  ever  met  and  I  couldn't 
have  him,  than  because  he  hadn't  behaved  quite 
properly." 

Magdal£na  reached  her  right  hand  to  a  bow  on 
her  left  shoulder,  that  Helena  should  not  see  the 
sudden  leap  of  her  heart.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  you  had  —  had  intended  to  —  to  —  add  him  to 
the  quartette  ?  " 

"  I  had  had  a  very  definite  idea  of  turning  the  entire 
quartette  out  in  his  favour.  I  don't  mind  telling  you 
that,  because  wild  horses  could  n't  make  me  so  much 
as  flirt  an  eyelash  at  him  again ;  and  of  course  it  was 
only  one  of  my  passing  fancies.  Nothing  goes  very 
deep  with  me.  I  'm  made  on  a  magnificent  plan. 
So  is  he.  We  '11  both  have  forgotten  last  evening 


234  The  Californians 

before  the  end  of  the  week.  I  hate  the  morning 
after  a  ball,  don't  you?  One  always  feels  so  devita 
lised.  Wasn't  Ila's  gown  disgracefully  low?  And 
the  way  some  girls  roll  their  eyes  is  positively  sicken 
ing.  Let 's  go  out  and  get  a  breath  of  air." 


XII 

Two  nights  later  Tiny  had  a  large  dinner.  A  place 
had  been  kept  for  Trennahan.  He  had  expected  to 
be  sent  in  with  Magdale"na,  —  somewhat  illogically,  as 
no  one  suspected  his  engagement.  He  was  sent  in 
with  Helena. 

The  long  low  dining-room  of  the  old  house  on 
Rincon  Hill  had  never  been  double-dated  with  gas 
fixtures.  There  was  a  large  candelabra  against  the 
dark  wainscot  at  each  end  of  the  room,  and  little 
clusters  of  flame  on  the  table.  The  girls  never 
looked  so  pretty,  so  guileless,  never  planted  their 
arrows  so  surely,  as  in  this  room,  in  the  soft  radiance 
of  its  wax  candles. 

On  Helena's  other  side  sat  Rollins,  whom  she  hon 
oured  by  regarding  as  a  brother.  On  Trennahan's  left 
Ila  was  intent  upon  the  subjugation  of  a  younger 
brother  of  Mr.  Washington,  who  had  recently  returned 
to  San  Francisco  after  six  years  in  Europe,  and  had 
knelt  at  her  shrine  at  once.  He  was  wealthy,  and  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  him.  Trennahan  she 
had  given  up  during  the  summer.  Had  she  not,  she 


The  Californians  235 

would  have  known  better  than  to  pit  her  charms 
against  Helena's.  Magdalena  was  on  the  same  side 
of  the  table. 

Helena  wore  white,  in  which  she  looked  her  best ; 
the  silk  softened  with  much  lace  on  the  bust.  She 
raised  her  eyes  defiantly  to  Trennahan's.  Their 
coquetry  had  been  ordered  to  the  rear. 

"We've  got  to  talk,  or  look  like  idiots,"  she  said. 
"  I  had  made  up  my  mind  never  to  speak  to  you 
again.  I  think  you  were  quite  too  horrid  the  other 
night." 

"  I  certainly  was." 

"  Was  it  your  fault  or  mine  ?  " 

"  Wholly  mine  —  despite  your  fascinations." 

"  I  would  n't  have  been  fascinating  if  I  had  known. 
I  am  glad  you  admit  that  it  was  all  your  fault.  It 
makes  me  believe  that  it  was.  What  made  you  keep 
it  up  for  three  hours?" 

"The  weakness  of  man." 

"Is  that  what  you  told  'Lena?" 

"No;  it  is  not." 

"What  did  you  tell  her —  Oh,  how  horrid  of  me 
to  ask  !  Let 's  talk  about  something  else.  Do  you 
like  California  better  than  New  York?" 

"  It  will  take  exactly  eight  minutes  to  exhaust  that 
subject ;  I  am  an  old  hand  at  it.  So  while  I  assure 
you  that  I  do,  and  am  giving  my  reasons,  please  cast 
about  for  a  subject  to  follow." 

"  My  thinker  is  not  good  to-night.  I  expect  you  to 
take  care  of  me." 


23  6  The  Californians 

"  What  greater  delight !  You  are  paler  than  you 
were.  Are  you  not  well  ?  " 

Trennahan's  voice  became  tender  from  long  habit. 
The  softness  and  fire  sprang  to  Helena's  eyes.  The 
pink  tide  poured  into  her  cheeks.  A  sudden  intense 
light  sprang  into  Trennahan's  eyes.  It  held  hers  for 
the  fraction  of  a  moment,  then  both  looked  away ;  and 
ate  their  oysters. 

It  was  Helena  who  spoke  first.  "  Another  moment, 
and  we  should  have  been  launched  into  the  second 
chapter.  But  we  are  not  to  flirt ;  we  understand  that 
thoroughly.  I  don't  think,  on  second  thoughts,  that  I 
should  like  you  at  all.  You  have  yourself  too  well  in 
hand  ;  you  look  as  if  you  had  been  through  it  all  too 
many  times ;  there  is  n't  a  bit  of  freshness  about  you  — 
Oh,  bother,  I  hate  lying  !  I  '11  tell  you  plainly  and 
have  done  with  it,  —  I  should  be  in  love  with  you  by 
this  time  if  it  were  not  for  'Le"na.  That's  not  the  way 
of  older  climes,  but  it 's  mine  :  I  Ve  got  to  talk  out  or 
die.  I  've  always  said  everything  that  occurred  to  me. 
Let 's  talk  this  out,  and  then  we  '11  never  talk  for  two 
minutes  alone  again.  If  you  had  not  been  in  love 
with  'Le'na,  should  you  be  in  love  with  me  by  this 
time?" 

He  put  his  fork  down  abruptly  and  turned  to  her. 
She  shrank  a  little.  "  1  think  we  had  better  let  that 
subject  alone.  As  a  product  of  older  climes,  I  am 
competent  to  judge." 

"  I  must  know.     I  will  know.     Tell  me." 

"Well,  then,  I  should." 


The  Californians  237 

"As  much  as  you  are  with  'Lena? " 

"  I  should  have  been  madder  about  you  than  I  have 
been  about  any  woman  for  fifteen  years." 

"  If  you  know  that,  how  can  you  help  it  now  ?  " 

"There  is  such  a  thing  as  honour  in  men." 

"  That  means  that  there  is  none  in  women  ?  Well, 
I  don't  believe  there  is.  But  honour  does  not  keep  a 
man  from  loving  a  woman." 

He  made  no  reply. 

"Does  it?" 

"  Are  you  mad  about  fire  ?  Or  is  it  your  vanity  that 
is  insatiable  ?  " 

Again  he  met  her  eyes.  And  this  time  her  face  was 
as  white  as  her  gown.  Her  bosom  was  heaving.  Her 
skin  was  translucent.  To  Trennahan's  suffused  vision 
she  seemed  bathed  in  white  fire. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  said  hoarsely ;  "  and  I  would  give 
all  the  soul  I  Ve  got  to  have  met  you  a  year  ago." 


XIII 

TALK   about  the  complex  heart  of  a  woman.     It   is 
nothing  to  that  of  a  man. 

Trennahan  had  loved  a  good  many  women  in  a  good 
many  ways.  Perhaps  he  understood  women  as  well  as 
any  man  of  his  day  :  he  had  been  bred  by  women  of 
the  world,  and  his  errant  fancy  had  occasionally  sent 
him  into  other  strata.  He  also  thought  that  he  knew 
himself.  His  mind,  his  heart,  his  senses,  the  best  and 


238  The  Californians 

the  worst  in  him,  had  been  engaged  so  often  and  so 
actively  that  he  could  have  drawn  diagrams  of  each, 
alone  or  in  combination,  with  accommodating  types  of 
woman.  He  also,  without  generalising  too  freely, 
knew  men,  and  he  had  spent  ten  years  of  his  life  in 
diplomacy.  But  he  now  stood  before  himself  as 
puzzled  as  he  was  aghast. 

If  his  grip  upon  himself  had  suddenly  relaxed,  and 
he  had  spent  a  wild  night  with  the  wild  young  men  of 
San  Francisco,  he  should  not  have  been  particularly 
surprised  :  he  had  been  living  on  an  exalted  plane  for 
the  last  ten  months.  But  that  he  loved  Magdalena 
with  the  love  of  his  life,  that  he  realised  in  her  some 
vague  youthful  ideal,  that  she  was  the  woman  created 
for  the  better  part  of  him,  that  his  highest  happiness 
was  to  be  found  in  her,  he  had  never  doubted  from  the 
minute  he  had  finished  his  long  communion  with  him 
self  and  determined  to  marry  her.  And  every  moment 
he  had  spent  with  her  had  strengthened  the  tie. 
Nothing  about  her  but  had  pleased  him  :  her  intellect, 
her  pride,  her  reticence,  her  difference  from  other 
women ;  even,  after  the  first  shock  to  his  taste  was 
over,  her  lack  of  beauty.  It  was  true  that  she  had  no 
great  power  over  his  pulses,  but  he  was  tired  of  his 
pulses.  She  appealed  to  his  tenderness  and  deeper 
affections  as  no  woman  had  done.  Above  all,  she  had 
given  him  peace  of  mind ;  and  she  held  his  future  in 
her  hands. 

And  now? 

Helena  Belmont  was  that  most  dangerous  rival  of 


The  Calif ornians  239 

other  women,  —  a  girl  whom  men  loved  desperately 
with  no  attendant  loss  of  self-respect.  Whatever  their 
passion,  they  felt  a  keen  personal  delight  in  the  purity 
of  her  mind ;  and  they  admired  themselves  the  more 
that  they  appreciated  her  cleverness.  She  was  not 
only  a  woman  to  love  but  to  idolise;  she  gave  even 
these  prosaic  San  Francisco  youths  vague  promptings 
to  distinguish  themselves  by  some  great  and  noble  ac 
tion,  sending  her  shafts  straight  through  the  American 
brain  to  those  dumb  inherited  instincts  which  had 
straggled  down  through  the  centuries  from  mediaeval 
ancestors.  Her  very  selfishness  —  which  she  was 
pleased  to  call  Paganism  —  charmed  them  :  it  was  one 
of  the  divine  rights  of  the  woman  born  to  rule  men 
and  to  create  a  happiness  for  one  unimagined  by  lesser 
women.  No  man  but  idealised  her,  unfanciful  as  he 
might  be,  not  so  much  for  her  beauty  or  gifts,  or  for  all 
combined,  as  because  when  she  gave  herself  it  would 
be  for  the  last  as  it  was  for  the  first  time.  As  the 
reader  knows,  there  was  nothing  ideal  about  Helena. 
Even  her  fastidiousness  was  natural  in  view  of  her  up 
bringing.  She  was  a  most  practical  young  flirt,  with  a 
very  distinct  intention  of  having  her  own  way  as  long 
as  she  lived.  The  wealth  and  petting  and  adulation 
which  had  surrounded  her  from  birth  had  made  a 
thorough- going  egoist  of  her,  albeit  a  most  charming 
one ;  for  she  was  warm-hearted,  impulsive,  generous, 
and  kind  —  in  her  own  way.  Naturally  the  men  for 
whom  her  lovely  eyes  beamed  welcome,  for  whom  her 
tantalising  mouth  pouted  into  smiles,  thought  her  noth- 


The  Californians 

ing  short  of  a  goddess,  and  were  moved  to  inarticulate 
rhyme. 

Trennahan  had  met  many  more  women  who  were 
beautiful,  seductive,  dashing,  and  withal  fastidious,  than 
had  these  young  men  of  a  cosmopolitan  and  still  chaotic 
State  ;  nevertheless,  he  might  have  been  Adam  ranging 
the  dreary  solitudes  of  Paradise,  facing  about  for  the 
first  time  upon  the  first  woman.  Helena  was  the  type 
of  woman  for  whom  such  men  as  meet  her  have  the 
strongest  passion  of  their  lives,  if  for  no  other  reason 
than  because  she  induces  an  exaggeration  of  their  best 
faculties  and  a  consequent  exaltation  of  self-appreciation, 
as  distinguished  from  mere  masculine  self-sufficiency. 
Never  is  the  briefly  favoured  one  so  much  of  a  man 
apart  from  a  type,  looking  down  upon  that  type  with 
pitying  scorn.  This  is  a  mere  matter  of  fascination, 
too  subtle^  and  composed  of  too  many  parts  for  man's 
analysis,  but  it  is  the  most  telling  force  in  the  clashing 
of  the  sexes. 

Trennahan  was  an  extremely  practical  man.  He 
called  things  by  their  right  names,  and  scorned  to  turn 
his  head  aside  when  life  or  himself  was  to  be  looked 
squarely  in  the  eye.  It  is  true  that  he  cursed  himself 
for  a  fool.  He  was  neither  in  his  youth  nor  in  his 
dotage ;  he  was  in  that  long  intermediate  period  where 
a  man  may  hope  that  his  will  and  sound  common-sense 
are  in  their  prime,  —  the  interval  of  the  minimum  of 
mistakes.  Nevertheless,  he  was  as  madly  in  love  with 
Helena  Belmont  as  was  the  first  man  with  the  first 


The  Californians  241 

woman,  as  a  boy  with  his  first  mistress,  an  old  man 
with  his  last.  He  admitted  the  fact  and  ordered  his 
brain  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation. 

He  was  not  conscious  of  any  change  in  his  feelings 
for  Magdal£na  except  that  he  no  longer  desired  to 
marry  her.  The  sense  of  rest,  of  comradeship,  the 
tenderness  and  affection,  had  not  abated.  He  was  just 
as  sure  that  she  was  the  woman  for  him  to  marry  as  he 
had  been  two  weeks  ago ;  and  he  knew  that  he  could 
not  make  a  greater  mistake  than  to  marry  Helena 
Belmont.  He  believed  that  it  would  be  years  before 
she  would  be  capable  of  loving  any  man  for  any  length 
of  time.  Such  women  not  only  develop  slowly,  but 
they  have  too  much  to  give,  men  too  little.  The  clever 
woman  is  abnormal  in  any  case,  being  a  divergence 
from  the  original  destiny  of  her  sex.  The  woman 
who  is  beautiful,  fascinating,  passionate,  and  clever  is  a 
development  with  which  man  has  not  kept  pace. 

He  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  three  days  follow 
ing  the  dinner,  on  the  cliffs  beyond  the  Golden  Gate. 
There  was  no  great  moral  battle  going  on  in  his  mind ; 
he  intended  to  marry  Magdatena.  One  of  his  pet 
theories  was  that  one  secret  of  the  rottenness  under 
lying  the  social,  and  in  natural  sequence,  the  political 
structure  of  the  United  States  was  the  absence  of  a 
convention.  Men  were  on  their  knees  to  women  so 
long  as  their  pleasure  was  materially  abetted  by  the 
attitude ;  but  the  moment  the  motive  ceased  to  exist, 
any  display  of  chivalry  toward  her  would  be  as  useless 
and  wasted  as  toward  the  ordinary  run  of  women.  It 
16 


242  The  Caiifornians 

is  always  the  woman  of  the  moment,  never  woman  in 
general.  The  so-called  chivalry  of  American  men  does 
not  exist ;  the  misconception  has  arisen  out  of  the  mul 
titudinous  examples  of  American  subserviency  to  the 
individual  woman,  —  which  is  part  of  a  habit  of  exag 
geration  natural  to  a  youthful  nation.  There  is  an  utter 
absence  of  all  responsibility  that  is  not  the  concomitant 
of  personal  desire. 

The  new  country  is  full  of  good  impulses  with  little 
to  bind  them  together.  Children  respect  their  parents 
if  they  feel  like  it,  just  as  they  are  polite  when  in  a 
responsive  mood,  not  through  any  sense  of  convention. 
The  American  press  is  an  exemplification  of  this  absence 
of  noblesse  oblige,  and  more  particularly  in  its  treatment 
of  women.  Even  when  not  moved  by  personal  jealousy 
or  spite,  the  total  lack  of  respect  with  which  the  Amer 
ican  press  treats  women  who  have  not  in  any  way  chal 
lenged  public  opinion  —  society  women  with  whom  the 
public  has  no  concern,  women  upon  whom  either  the 
misfortune  of  circumstances  or  of  a  powerful  individu 
ality  has  fallen  —  is  the  most  significant  foreboding  of 
the  degeneration  of  a  national  character  while  yet  half 
grown.  It  is  individualism,  which  is  a  polite  term  for 
rampant  selfishness,  run  mad,  a  fussy  contempt  and 
hatred  for  the  traditions  of  older  nations. 

Fifty  years  ago,  when  the  United  States  was  still  so 
old-fashioned  as  to  be  hardly  "American,"  it  was  more 
or  less  bound  together  by  the  conventions  it  had  inher 
ited  from  the  great  civilisations  that  begat  it.  These 
conventions  exist  to-day  only  in  men  of  the  highest 


The  Californians  243 

breeding,  those  with  six  or  eight  generations  behind 
them  of  refinement,  consequence,  and  fastidiousness 
in  association.  In  these  men,  the  representatives  of 
an  aristocracy  that  is  in  danger  cf  being  crippled  and 
perhaps  swamped  by  plutocracy,  exists  the  convention 
which  forces  the  most  deplorable  degenerate  of  old- 
world  aristocracy  to  manifest  himself  a  gentleman  in 
every  crucial  test.  So  thoroughly  did  Trennahan  com 
prehend  these  facts,  so  profound  was  his  contempt  for 
the  second-rate  men  of  his  country,  that  he  was  almost 
self-conscious  about  his  honour.  He  would  no  more 
have  asked  Magdatena  to  release  him,  nor  have  adopted 
the  still  more  contemptible  method  of  forcing  her  to 
break  the  engagement,  than  he  would  have  been  the 
ruin  of  an  ignorant  girl.  But  he  would  have  sacrificed 
every  green  blade  in  his  soul  to  have  met  Helena 
Belmont  a  year  ago,  and  would  have  taken  the  chances 
with  defiance  and  the  consequences  without  a  murmur. 

To  marry  Magdale"na  in  June  was  impossible.  That 
he  should  ever  cease  to  desire  Helena  Belmont,  to 
regret  the  very  complete  happiness  which  might  have 
been  his  for  a  few  years,  was  a  matter  of  doubt,  —  with 
even  possibilities.  But  there  must  be  a  long  inter 
mission  before  he  could  marry  another  woman.  His 
determination  to  leave  California  for  a  year  was  fixed, 
but  what  excuse  to  offer  Don  Roberto  and  Magdale"na 
was  the  question  which  beset  him  in  all  his  waking 
hours  and  amid  all  his  torments. 

During  these  three  days  he  avoided  seeing  Magda- 
alone.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day  he 


r>44  The  Californians 

came  face  to  face  with  Helena  Belmont  in  the  Mercan 
tile  Library. 

She  was  leaving  as  he  entered.  They  looked  at  each 
other  for  a  moment,  then  without  a  word  both  walked 
toward  a  room  at  the  right  of  the  door. 

This  was  a  long  narrow  apartment  leading  off  the 
great  room,  and  was  darker,  dustier,  gloomier,  grimmer. 
As  the  building  stood  almost  against  another  of  equal 
height,  its  side  windows  looked  upon  blank  walls ;  but 
some  measure  of  grey  light  was  coaxed  down  from  the 
narrow  strip  above  by  means  of  reflectors.  The  walls 
were  lined  with  old  books  bound  in  calf  black  with 
age,  and  in  the  centre  was  a  long  narrow  table  which 
looked  as  if  it  should  have  a  coffin  on  it.  This  room 
had  depressed  many  cheerful  lovers  in  its  time  ;  it 
was  enough  to  drive  tormented  souls  to  suicide. 

Trennahan  and  Helena  sat  down  in  an  angle  where 
they  were  least  likely  to  be  seen. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  asked  Helena. 

"  I  am  going  away  for  a  year  as  soon  as  I  can  invent 
a  decent  excuse." 

"Then  shall  you  come  back  and  marry  'L£na?" 

"  Yes." 

"Suppose  you  still  love  me?  " 

"  It  will  make  no  difference.  And  Time  works 
wonders.  You  will  have  quite  forgotten  me." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  I  shall."  Her  voice  shook.  There 
was  agitation  in  every  curve  of  her  figure.  But  had 
anyone  entered,  their  faces  could  not  have  been  dis 
tinguished  two  feet  away.  The  sky  was  grey.  There 
was  no  light  to  reflect. 


The  Californians  245 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  n't  got  what  I  wanted," 
she  said  ingenuously. 

"It  will  make  your  next  triumph  the  keener.  I 
shall  be  glad  to  serve  as  a  shadow  for  the  high  lights." 

"  I  have  suffered  horribly  in  the  last  week." 

"  So  have  I,  if  that  consoles  you.  But  I  have  had  a 
good  deal  of  suffering  in  my  life,  one  way  and  another, 
and  I  shall  weather  it.  I  wish  I  could  take  your 
share." 

"  Should  n't  you  like  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  should.  Why  do  you  ask  such  foolish 
questions  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  talk  it  all  out.  I  love  'Lena,  but  I  don't 
love  her  better  than  I  do  myself,  and  I  don't  see  why 
I  should  suffer  instead  of  she.  Don't  you  think  that  if 
we  told  her  she  would  release  you?  " 

"  Undoubtedly ;  but  I  shall  not  ask  her.  Nor  must 
you  think  of  such  a  thing.  Why  two  young  and  excep 
tionally  fortunate  girls  should  want  what  is  left  of  me 
God  only  knows  ;  but  if  they  do  the  prior  rights  must 
win  the  day.  If  I  don't  marry  'Lena,  I  shall  marry  no 
woman,  —  not  even  you." 

She  gave  him  a  swift  glance.  His  face  was  not  as 
stern  as  his  words.  "You  know  that  you  would,"  she 
said  with  decision.  "  You  are  too  honourable  to  break 
the  engagement,  but  you  would  marry  me  if  it  were 
broken  for  you." 

He  drew  his  brows  together  and  bent  his  face  to 
hers.  "Listen  to  me,"  he  said.  "I  mean  what  I  say. 
I  love  you,  —  how  much  you  have  not  the  vaguest  idea  ; 


246  The  Californians 

but  I  will  not  have  her  happiness  ruined.  If  you  ask 
her  to  break  the  engagement,  I  shall  never  see  you 
again.  Will  you  remember  that?" 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right.  I  had  not  really  thought 
of  asking  her.  But  I  've  got  to  tell  her  that  I  love  you. 
I  feel  like  a  hideous  hypocrite.  I  can  hardly  look  her 
in  the  face.  I  '11  promise  not  to  betray  you,  but  I  must 
tell  her  that.  She  has  been  so  sweet  to  me  this  last 
week,  ever  since  that  night  at  Monterey.  She  's  the 
very  best  creature  that  ever  lived.  Then  I  '11  ask  papa 
to  take  me  away.  You  need  not  go." 

"  I  shall  go.  Can't  you  go  away  without  saying  any 
thing  to  her  about  it?  I  don't  see  why  her  peace  of 
mind  should  be  disturbed." 

"  I  should  feel  just  as  guilty  when  I  came  back." 
"  You  would  have  forgotten  it  by  that  time." 
"  Oh,  no ;  I  should  n't !   I  should  n't !  " 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  passion  in  her  voice. 
Trennahan   half  rose,  but  sat  down  again.     "  I  would 
rather  you  wrote  it  to  her  after   you  left,"   he  said. 
"  Then  there  would  be  no  danger  of  saying  too  much. 
If  you  want  to  go  to  Europe,  I  will  go  to  the  South  Sea 
Islands." 

"Well,  I  will  arrange  it  that  way,  if  you  like." 
Her  head  was  lowered.  She  spoke  dejectedly. 
There  was  little  of  the  old  Helena  manifest.  In  truth, 
she  had  been  making  a  mighty  effort  to  control  herself 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  She  hardly  knew  whether 
she  wished  to  do  what  was  right  or  not;  for  the 
moment  she  was  dominated  by  a  stronger  will  than  her 


The  Californians  247 

own.  She  drew  a  deep  sigh.  "  I  wish  I  could  take  it 
as  coolly  as  you  do,"  she  said. 

"  I  take  it  less  coolly.  But  I  am  older  and  used  to 
self-control." 

"  I   hate   self-control." 

"  So  do  I." 

"  I  feel  as  if  life  were  quite  over.  I  would  a  great 
deal  rather  die  than  not.  I  wish  I  were  older.  I 
don't  know  what  to  do.  I  feel  that  it  cannot  be 
right  to  throw  away  the  happiness  of  one's  life,  but  I 
don't  know  how  to  hold  you,  and,  above  all,  I  don't 
want  to  hurt  'Le"na.  I  thought  that  I  knew  so  much; 
but  I  know  nothing  at  all  —  nothing." 

"  If  you  do  what  is  right,  you  will  be  very  glad  a 
year  hence." 

"  A  year  is  such  a  long  time."  Her  head  dropped 
lower.  She  looked  utterly  dejected.  In  a  moment 
she  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  face  and  cried 
silently.  The  undemonstrativeness  of  the  act,  so 
unlike  her  usual  volcanic  energy,  touched  him  out 
of  prudence.  He  put  his  arm  about  her  and  pressed 
her  head  against  his  shoulder.  In  a  moment  he  laid 
his  face  against  hers  and  closed  his  eyes  to  crowd 
back  the  tears  that  sprang  from  the  depths  of  his 
soul.  When  he  opened  his  eyes,  it  was  to  meet 
those  of  Magdale"na. 


248  The  Californians 


XIV 

SHE  had  left  them  without  a  word,  and  Trennahan 
did  not  see  her  until  the  following  evening,  when  she 
sent  for  him. 

She  received  him  in  the  room  at  the  end  of  the 
hall,  where  they  were  sure  not  to  be  interrupted. 
As  he  entered  he  averted  his  face  hastily,  and  cursed 
himself  for  a  scoundrel.  But  he  went  straight  to  the 
point. 

"  I  have  made  you  suffer,"  he  said,  "  and  as  only 
you  can  suffer.  I  have  no  excuse  to  offer  except  my 
own  weakness.  Do  you  remember  that  I  asked  you 
once  if  you  thought  you  could  love  me  did  you  come 
to  understand  all  the  weakness  of  my  nature,  and  that 
you  replied  you  could?  Will  you  forgive  me  this  dis 
play  of  it  ?  I  have  no  desire  —  no  intention  of  marry 
ing  any  other  woman." 

"  I  have  not  doubted  your  honour.  But  I  shall  not 
marry  you.  I  do  not  want  you  without  your  love.  I 
see  now  that  I  never  had  it." 

"You  did,  and  you  have  it  still.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  man  to  explain  himself  to  a  woman.  Will  you 
let  me  decide  for  both  ?  I  am  going  away  for  a  time. 
When  I  return  I  want  you  to  marry  me." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  There  would  be  three 
people  miserable  instead  of  one.  If  I  had  not  gone 
there  yesterday,  perhaps  I  should  never  have  known  : 
I  simply  made  up  my  mind  after  that  night  at  Mon- 


The  Californians  249 

terey  that  I  would  think  no  more  about  it.  By  and 
by  you  might  have  got  over  it  and  we  might  have 
been  happy  in  a  way  —  I  don't  know.  It  is  not  your 
fault  that  I  found  out.  And  I  went  to  the  Library 
by  the  merest  chance  yesterday.  It  seems  like  fate, 
and  I  shall  recognise  it.  If  Helena  did  not  love  you 
it  would  be  different ;  but  I  had  a  terrible  scene  with 
her  last  night.  I  never  thought  even  she  could  feel 
so.  For  the  time  I  felt  much  sorrier  for  her  than 
for  myself —  I  felt  rather  dull,  for  that  matter.  After 
she  went  I  thought  all  night.  It  was  a  terrible  night." 
She  stopped  and  shivered. 

He  took  her  hand,  but  she  withdrew  it.  "  I  thought 
of  everything.  You  know  I  once  told  you  that  my 
only  religion  was  to  do  what  I  believed  to  be  right. 
If  love  means  anything,  it  means  that  one  should 
make  the  other  person  happy,  not  oneself.  I  thought 
and  thought.  You  two  were  more  to  me  than  any 
people  living.  I  have  not  ever  really  loved  anyone 
else,  except  my  aunt,  and  her  not  half  so  much  as 
Helena.  Therefore  my  love  would  not  be  worth  much 
if  I  did  not  consider  you  two  before  myself.  If 
Helena  did  not  love  you,  it  would  be  different.  I 
would  try  to  forget  that  she  had  fascinated  you,  and 
I  should  see  no  reason  why  I  should  not  marry  you 
if  you  still  wished  me  to.  But  she  loves  you.  I 
never  expected  to  see  such  tragedy.  But  even  if  I 
did  not  believe  she  would  make  you  happy,  I  would 
not  give  you  to  her,  for  I  vowed  to  live  for  that  — 
long  before  the  night  at  Tiny's  —  in  the  garden. 


250  The  Californians 

But  Helena  could  make  any  man  happy.  She  has 
everything." 

She  paused  again.  He  made  no  reply  for  a 
moment.  He  was  staring  at  the  carpet,  at  a  hideous 
green-and-yellovv  dragon.  The  comedy  which  cuts 
every  black  cloud  in  thin  staccato  blades  was  suggest 
ing  that  he  had  something  to  be  grateful  for,  inas 
much  as  the  scene  with  Helena  had  been  spared 
himself. 

"  You  are  far  more  suited  to  me  than  she  is,"  he 
said  finally.  "  I  am  too  old  for  her.  I  am  not  for 
you.  If  we  have  souls,  yours  and  mine  were  made 
for  each  other.  Years  have  nothing  to  do  with  us. 
They  would  mean  everything  between  Helena  and 
myself." 

She  leaned  forward  and  fixed  her  eyes  on  his,  com 
pelling  his  gaze. 

"  If  you  had  never  met  me,  would  you  not  be 
engaged  to  Helena  by  this  time?" 

"  Doubtless,  but  that  proves  nothing." 

"Will  you  give  me  your  word  of  honour  that  you 
do  not  wish  you  were  free,  that  you  would  not  gladly 
marry  her  now?" 

He  drew  a  long  breath.  He  felt  like  a  prisoner 
on  the  witness  stand  driven  to  save  himself  by  incrimi- 
nation  of  another.  But  he  was  in  that  state  of  mind 
when  only  the  truth  is  possible. 

"  I  will  put  it  in  another  way.  Do  you  want  any 
thing  in  the  world  as  much  as  Helena?" 

"  No,"  he  said ;   "  I  do  not." 


The  Californians 


251 


She  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window,  and  drew 
aside  the  curtains.  The  sky  was  brilliant  with  moon 
and  stars ;  the  bay  and  hills  lovely  with  the  mystery 
of  night.  California  had  never  been  more  unsympa- 
thetically  beautiful.  She  jerked  the  curtains  together 
and  went  back  to  him.  As  she  did  not  sit  down,  he 
rose. 

"  That  is  all,"  she  said,  "  except  that  you  must  let 
me  explain  to  my  father." 

"  And  let  you  bear  the  whole  brunt  of  it.  Not  if  I 
know  myself." 

"  You  must.  I  understand  him,  and  you  do  not. 
Besides,  if  he  knew  that  you  and  Helena  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  breaking  of  the  engagement  he  would 
never  let  me  speak  to  either  of  you  again,  and  I  have 
no  other  friends.  I  shall  tell  him  that  I  no  longer 
wish  to  marry  you,  and  he  cannot  compel  me  to  give 
reasons.  If  he  speaks  to  you  about  it,  you  must  tell 
him  that  you  will  marry  no  woman  against  her  will, 
and  let  him  see  that  you  mean  it." 

"  Magdal^na,  you  are  a  grand  woman." 

"  I  am  a  very  dull  and  stupid  person  who  has  made 
up  her  mind  that  the  only  chance  of  making  life  bear 
able  is  to  do  what  is  right.  I  am  terribly  common 
place.  I  wonder  you  stood  me  as  long  as  you  did." 

"  You  are  the  reverse  of  stupid  and  commonplace ; 
and  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  you  are  doing  right. 
I,  too,  have  thought  over  this  matter,  for  nearly  as 
many  days  as  you  have  hours.  I  have  tried  to  get 
outside  myself,  to  view  the  case  quite  dispassionately; 


252  The  Californians 

and  I  honestly  believe  that  —  as  you  insist  upon  put 
ting  me  before  yourself  —  it  would  be  better  for  me  to 
marry  you  than  Helena." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it.  Nor  could  I  marry  you  after 
what  you  just  acknowledged.  I  have  never  had  much 
pride  with  you,  but  I  have  that  much.  Marry  you 
when  you  said  that  you  wanted  nothing  so  much  in 
the  world  as  to  marry  Helena  Belmont?  That  was 
the  end  of  everything." 

He  left  the  room  and  the  house.  Magdale"na  went 
up  the  stair  slowly,  assisting  herself  with  the  banister. 
Her  limbs  felt  as  if  their  muscles  had  fallen  to  dust. 
Her  heart  seemed  to  have  taken  itself  outside  of  her 
altogether ;  there  was  no  sensation  where  sensation 
was  supposed  to  sit,  unless  it  were  that  of  vacancy. 
Her  brain  was  not  confused  ;  she  did  not  feel  in  the 
least  as  if  she  were  going  to  be  ill.  She  knew  what 
she  had  done,  what  she  had  to  do  in  the  future  ; 
and  she  wished  that  her  heavy  limbs  were  as  dead 
as  that  something  within  her  for  which  she  had  no 
name. 


XV 

THE  next  morning  she  received  a  note  from  Tren- 
nahan. 

I  am  sailing  for  Honolulu.  Do  nothing  until  my 
return.  I  shall  be  gone  six  weeks.  Until  your  final  de 
cision  I  shall  consider  myself  bound  to  you.  And,  I 


The  Californlans  253 

repeat,  I  think  it  best  that  we  should  marry.  You  have 
acted  on  impulse,  and  your  mind  and  judgment  were  con 
structed  to  work  slowly.  And  God  knows  this  is  not  a 
matter  to  be  decided  in  haste.  I  shall  have  sailed  before 
even  a  telegram  from  you  could  reach  me.  Don  Roberto 
knows  that  I  have  thought  more  than  once  of  a  trip  to  the 
Islands.  Tell  him  when  he  returns  that  I  suddenly  de 
cided  to  go.  J.  T. 

But  Magdal6na  wanted  no  respite.  It  was  her 
temper  to  die  once  rather  than  a  thousand  times. 
Her  father  was  in  Sacramento  on  business.  He 
would  return  the  following  day.  She  was  too  dull 
and  listless  to  feel  fear  of  him,  but  she  wanted  it 
over. 

She  wrote  at  once  to  Helena,  enclosing  Trennahan's 
letter :  "  I  have  made  up  my  mind,  and  that  is  the 
end  of  it.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  he  now  belongs  to 
you.  I  shall  speak  to  papa  to-morrow  night.  Imme 
diately  after  I  shall  write  to  Mr.  Trennahan,  and  that 
will  put  an  end  to  my  part  in  the  matter." 

Helena  ordered  her  devoted  parent  to  take  her  to 
Southern  California  at  once.  To  pick  up  the  old 
routine,  to  show  herself  daily  and  nightly  in  the 
studied  simulacrum  of  her  former  self,  was  no  part 
of  her  code.  She  felt  she  should  tell  every  man  that 
came  near  her  that  she  hated  him,  and  the  reason  why. 
Nor  was  hers  the  temperament  for  suspense  without 
diversion.  She  could  live  through  the  next  six  weeks 
with  change  of  scene,  but  not  otherwise.  She  made 
a  full  confession  to  her  father  and  received  the  severest 


254  The  Californians 

reprimand  of  her  life ;  but  Colonel  Belmont  took  hei 
to  Southern  California. 

Magdale"na  went  to  a  lunch-party  on  the  day  follow 
ing  Trennahan's  departure  and  paid  calls  during  the 
afternoon.  The  small  details  diverted  her,  and  she 
found  herself  able  to  make  conversation,  despite  the 
sluggish  current  of  misery  beneath.  She  had  told  her 
mother  of  her  determination  not  to  marry  Trennahan  ; 
and  although  Mrs.  Yorba  had  paced  the  room  in  ap 
prehension  of  her  husband's  wrath,  she  was  secretly 
pleased.  A  daughter,  particularly  one  that  gave  no 
trouble,  was  companionable  and  useful,  and  she  saw 
no  reason  why  she  should  be  asked  to  give  her  to  any 
man  for  years  to  come.  Although  meagre,  she  was 
not  heartless,  and  was  much  relieved  that  Magdalena 
appeared  indifferent  to  the  sudden  break.  She  was 
dimly  conscious  that  she  did  not  understand  her 
daughter,  but  she  had  no  desire  to  plumb  the  depths ; 
she  had  a  substantial  distaste  for  the  Spanish  nature 
when  roused. 

Her  husband  was  expected  to  return  in  time  for 
dinner.  She  went  to  bed  with  an  attack  of  neuralgia 
a  little  after  six. 

Magdalena  did  not  see  her  father  until  he  entered 
the  dining-room  with  her  uncle.  He  inquired  imme 
diately  for  Trennahan,  who  usually  dined  with  him 
when  there  were  no  engagements  elsewhere. 

"  He  decided  suddenly  to  go  to  the  Sandwich 
Islands  and  sailed  yesterday." 

"  Very  sorry  he  no  wait  until  I  come  back.     I  think 


The  Californians  255 

I  gone  with  him.  Always  I  want  to  see  the  Islands. 
I  work  long  enough  now :  go  to  travel  some  and  see 
the  world.  So  queer  to  think  is  so  much  world  outside 
California.  When  you  go  to  Europe,  I  go  too.  And 
you,  too,  Eeram.  You  no  can  go  with  us,  for  both  can 
not  leave  the  bank,  but  when  we  coming  back  you  take 
the  vacation,  too." 

"  I  never  expect  to  see  the  outside  of  California 
again,"  said  Mr.  Polk,  shortly. 

Magdatena's  nerves  shook  for  the  first  time  in 
seventy-two  hours.  She  appreciated  the  ordeal  she  had 
to  face  within  the  next.  The  dull  ache  in  every  nerve 
of  her  gave  place  to  a  certain  keenness  of  apprehen 
sion.  What  would  that  terrible  little  man  do  ?  She 
had  absorbed  something  of  her  father's  personality  as 
a  child.  During  the  last  year  she  had  talked  much 
with  him  and  had  discovered  the  strange  weaknesses 
and  fears  which  lurked  in  that  manufactured  character. 
She  fully  realised  what  a  son-in-law  like  Trennahan 
meant  to  him.  He  was  quite  capable  of  killing  her. 
And  during  the  last  three  or  four  weeks  he  had  flown 
into  more  than  one  violent  passion,  prompted  by  a 
liver  disordered  by  too  much  dining  out. 

While  the  two  men  were  drinking  their  coffee,  she 
left  the  room  and  went  to  the  office.  The  riding-whip 
was  in  its  old  place ;  on  a  shelf  in  the  cupboard  was 
a  brace  of  pistols.  Magdal£na  threw  the  whip  into 
the  cupboard,  locked  the  door,  and  slipped  the  key 
behind  a  book  on  the  mantel.  Her  father  came  in 
a  moment  later.  She  handed  him  a  cigar  and  a 


256  The  Californians 

match.  He  drew  his  heavy  brows  together  and  puck 
ered  his  eyelids. 

"What  the  matter?"  he  demanded  drily.  "So 
white  you  are,  and  the  hand  tremble." 

Magdalena  sat  down  and  took  control  of  herself. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  marry  Mr.  Trennahan,"  she  said. 

She  held  her  breath  for  the  expected  outburst ;  but 
Don  Roberto  only  stared  at  her,  his  eyes  slowly  ex 
panding.  The  cigar  dropped  from  his  fingers. 

" He  no  want  marry  you?  "  he  ejaculated  finally. 

"  I  told  him  that  I  did  not  wish  to  marry  him,  —  I 
never  wish  to  marry  any  man,  —  and  he  is  too  proud 
to  insist  upon  marrying  a  woman  who  does  not  want 
him.  We  had  a  long  conversation.  We  quite  under 
stand  each  other.  He  will  never  ask  me  again." 

"Dies/"  gasped  Don  Roberto.  "Dios/"  But 
there  was  no  anger  in  his  voice.  His  eyes  rolled  from 
Magdalena  to  the  window  and  back  again.  Finally 
he  said, — 

"He  no  come  back,  then?  " 

"  He  is  coming  back  in  six  weeks." 

Don  Roberto  drew  a  long  breath  and  seemed  to 
recover  himself. 

"  Then  si  he  no  break  the  engagement,  he  feel  glad 
si  it  is  make  again.  You  marry  him  the  day  after  he 
come  back.  I  fixit  that." 

"  No  power  on  earth  can  make  me  marry  him." 

Her  father  searched  her  countenance.  He  knew 
her  character.  Did  it  not  have  that  iron  of  New 
England  in  it  for  which  he  would  have  sold  his  birth- 


The  Californians  257 

right?  He  might  turn  her  into  the  street,  and  it 
would  avail  him  nothing.  Again  his  features  relaxed, 
this  time  not  with  surprise  and  consternation,  but  with 
abject  fear.  He  shuddered  from  head  to  foot ;  then 
his  hands  shot  up  to  receive  his  face.  He  groaned 
and  rocked  from  side  to  side. 

Magdale"na  was  aghast.  What  feeling  was  alive  in 
her  united  in  filial  tenderness.  She  went  to  him  and 
put  her  hands  uncertainly  about  his  head,  then  stroked 
his  hair  awkwardly :  she  was  little  used  to  endear 
ments. 

"I  never  thought  — "  she  stammered.  "I  never 
thought  —  " 

"Thirty  years  I  work  like  the  slave,  and  now  all 
going !  Eeram,  he  have  the  death-tick  in  him :  I 
hear  !  And  now  I  no  go  to  have  the  son,  and  I  go  to 
die  in  the  streets  like  the  others ;  with  no  one  cents  ! 
Ay!  yi  /  ay!  yi  !  " 

Magdatena  was  pricked  with  a  new  fear :  Was  her 
father  insane?  She  had  heard  of  the  "fixed  idea." 
This  weevil  had  been  burrowing  in  his  brain  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  She  went  back  to  her 
chair  and  said  assertively,  — 

"  You  are  one  of  the  ablest  financiers  in  California : 
everybody  says  so.  Nothing  can  change  that,  whether 
uncle  dies  or  not.  This  is  all  a  fancy  of  yours.  You 
don't  half  appreciate  yourself.  And  you  are  tired  out 
to-night,  and  have  not  been  well  lately —  " 

"All  going!  All  going!  Ay  de  mil  Ay  de  mil 
Why  I  no  dying  with  the  wife  and  the  little  boy? 
17 


258  The  Californians 

Make  myself  over,  and  now  the  screws  go  to  drop 
out  my  character,  and  I  am  like  before." 

Magdalena  had  an  inspiration.  "  Take  me  into  the 
bank,"  she  said  eagerly.  "Teach  me  everything.  I 
am  sure  I  can  learn.  Then  I  will  look  after  every 
thing  when  uncle  dies.  I  want  to  work  —  " 

Don  Roberto  dropped  his  hands  and  gave  a  low 
roar.  "  The  women  all  fools,  and  you  the  more  big 
fool  I  never  see.  You  throw  way  the  clever  man  like 
he  is  old  hat,  and  think  you  can  manage  the  bank  ! 
Madre  de  Dios  !  Si  I  no  feel  like  old  clothes,  no  more, 
I  beating  you.  To-morrow  I  do  it."  His  eyes  kindled 
at  the  prospect.  "  To-morrow  si  you  no  say  you 
marry  Trennahan,  I  beating  you  till  you  are  black  like 
my  hat." 

What  remained  of  Magdal^na's  apathy  left  her  then. 
She  stood  up  and  faced  him,  drawing  her  heavy  brows 
together  after  his  own  fashion.  "  You  will  never  beat 
me  again,"  she  said.  "  Let  us  have  an  understanding 
on  that  subject  before  we  go  to  bed  to-night.  I  am 
your  daughter,  and  I  shall  always  obey  you  except 
where  the  question  of  my  marrying  is  concerned. 
But  if  you  ill-treat  me  I  shall  leave  your  house  and 
not  return:  I  am  of  age,  and  I  have  my  aunt  to  go 
to.  Now,  unless  you  promise  me  that  you  will  never 
raise  your  hand  to  me  again,  I  will  leave  for  Santa 
Barbara  to-night." 

Again  Don  Roberto  stared  at  her.  But  his  surprise 
passed  quickly.  He  was  too  shrewd  a  judge  of  human 
nature  to  doubt  her.  If  she  had  inherited  the  iron 


The  Californians  259 

of  her  mother's  ancestors,  she  had  also  inherited  the 
pride  of  the  Yorbas  :  she  would  not  permit  her  woman, 
hood  to  be  outraged.  But  he  could  have  his  revenge 
in  other  ways;  and  he  would  take  it.  He  gave  the 
promise  and  ordered  her  sullenly  to  send  the  butler 
to  help  him  up  to  bed. 


XVI 

DURING  the  following  week  Don  Roberto  was  very 
ill.  The  doctor  came  three  times  a  day.  Mrs.  Yorba 
and  Magdatena  sat  up  on  alternate  nights.  Mr.  Polk 
was  constantly  at  the  bedside.  When  he  retired  to 
snatch  an  hour's  sleep,  Don  Roberto's  temperature 
became  alarming;  of  the  presence  of  his  wife  and 
daughter  he  took  no  notice  whatever. 

As  the  ego  must  enter  into  all  things,  Magdatena, 
despite  her  alarm  and  pity,  was  grateful  for  the  diver 
sion.  The  interview  with  her  father  had  roused  her 
abruptly  and  finally ;  and  during  that  night  her  misery 
had  raged  in  every  part  of  her.  It  is  true  that  in  the 
long  watches  thought  fairly  stamped  in  her  brain,  but 
it  was  rudely  brushed  aside  every  little  while  by  the 
imperious  wants  of  the  sick  man,  or  the  whispered 
remarks  of  the  professional  nurse.  At  other  times  she 
slept  heavily  or  received  the  numerous  friends  who 
came  to  inquire  for  the  eminent  citizen  who  had 
dined  out  too  often  during  the  gayest  season  in  many 
years. 


260  The  Californians 

Don  Roberto  recovered,  and  his  convalescence  was 
as  memorable  as  his  previous  social  activity.  No 
nurse  would  remain  more  than  thirty-six  hours  at  any 
price ;  and  even  his  wife,  whose  ideas  of  marital  duty 
were  as  rigid  as  her  social  code,  lost  her  patience 
upon  one  occasion  and  rated  him  soundly.  Mr.  Polk 
was  the  only  person  he  treated  with  common  decency. 
As  for  Magdale'na,  he  might  have  been  a  sultan  and 
she  his  meanest  slave.  But  Magdale'na  was  rather 
pleased  than  otherwise.  Her  conscience  had  flag 
ellated  her  as  the  immediate  cause  of  his  illness,  and 
she  strove  by  every  act  of  devotion  to  make  amends. 

As  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  recovered,  he  was 
taken,  in  a  special  car,  to  Fair  Oaks,  to  absorb  the 
sun  on  his  spacious  verandahs.  Magdale'na  had  asked 
the  doctor  to  order  Southern  California,  but  the  order 
had  been  received  with  such  a  roar  of  fury  that  the 
subject  was  not  resumed.  Magdale'na  was  forced 
to  return  to  Menlo  Park. 

She  spent  the  night  walking  the  floor  of  her  room, 
struggling  for  endurance  to  face  the  places  eloquent 
of  Trennahan.  There  were  so  many  of  them  !  Helena 
simply  would  not  have  returned;  no  power  short  of 
physical  force  could  have  compelled  her.  More  than 
once  Magdale'na  wished  that  she  was  cast  in  her 
friend's  anarchic  mould.  She  felt  that  did  her  grip 
upon  herself  relax  she  should  scream  aloud  and  grovel 
on  the  very  boards  that  had  had  their  share  in  her 
brief  love-life.  But  she  was  Magdale'na  Yorba,  the 
proudest  woman  in  California ;  in  the  very  hour  of 


The  Californians  261 

her  discovery,  when  she  had  been  possessed  of  a  blind 
terror  rather  than  grief,  she  had  remembered  to  be 
thankful  that  the  world  could  not  pity  her.  Even  the 
genuine  sympathy  of  Tiny  would  have  been  gall  in 
a  raw  wound.  She  was  looking  thinner  and  plainer 
than  ever,  but  her  father's  illness  would  account  for 
that.  She  must  set  her  features  in  steel  and  lock  them, 
keep  her  emotions  for  the  night. 

The  next  day  she  visited  every  spot  associated  with 
Trennahan,  —  not  once,  but  many  times.  She  had 
made  up  her  mind  with  the  right  instinct  that  the 
thing  to  do  was  to  blunt  her  sensibilities.  By  the 
third  day  she  had  ordered  the  earlier  associations  on 
duty,  and  managed  to  confuse  them  somewhat  with 
those  which  had  held  possession  for  so  brief  a  time. 
She  was  determined  to  succeed.  She  had  no  right 
to  love  the  husband  of  another  woman,  and  suffering 
was  something  so  much  more  terrible  than  anything 
her  imagination  had  ever  hinted  that  she  was  frantic 
to  get  rid  of  the  load  as  quickly  as  possible.  By  and 
by  she  would  go  back  to  her  writing;  and  that, 
and  her  duties,  should  be  every  bit  of  her  life 
henceforth. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  she  discovered  that  she  was 
still  receptive  to  the  aesthetic  delights.  It  was  early 
spring.  The  soft  air  caressed  the  senses,  perfumed 
with  violet  and  lilac,  Castilian  roses,  new  clover,  and 
the  breath  of  mountain  forests,  brought  on  the  long 
sighs  of  the  wind.  Never  was  there  such  a  bouquet 
since  Time  began.  Over  a  high  bush  on  the  lawn 


262  The  Californians 

opposite  her  window  the  long  "  bridal  wreaths " 
tumbled.  The  meadows  were  full  of  mustard,  the 
bright  green  leaves  hardly  visible,  so  thick  were  the 
yellow  blossoms. 

Once  she  rode  to  the  foot-hills,  escorted  by  Dick. 
They  were  covered  with  yellow  and  purple  lupins,  minia 
ture  jungles  which  harboured  nothing  more  sanguinary 
than  the  gopher  and  the  cotton-tail.  The  tawny  pop 
pies  had  hills  all  to  themselves,  a  blaze  of  colour 
as  fiery  as  the  sun  to  which  they  lifted  their  curved 
drowsy  lips.  The  Mariposa  lilies  grew  by  the  creeks, 
in  the  dark  shade  of  meeting  willows.  The  gold- 
green  moss  was  like  plush  on  the  trees.  From  the 
hills  the  great  valley  looked  like  a  dense  forest  out 
of  which  lifted  the  tower  of  an  enchanted  castle. 
Not  another  signal  of  man  was  to  be  seen,  nothing 
but  the  excrescence  on  the  big  wedding-cake  house  of 
a  Bonanza  king.  Beyond  the  hills  rose  the  slopes 
of  the  mountains,  with  their  mighty  redwoods,  their 
dark  untrodden  aisles,  their  vast  primeval  silences. 
Magdale"na  was  thankful  that  Nature  had  not  ceased 
to  be  beautiful,  and  pressed  her  hands  against  her 
heart  to  stifle  its  demand ;  Nature  commands  union, 
and  has  no  sympathy  for  aching  solitude. 

Meanwhile  Don  Roberto  was  recovering  rapidly. 
From  the  hour  that  he  could  walk  briskly  about  the 
garden  his  voluble  irascibility  left  him,  and  he  reverted 
to  something  more  than  his  old  taciturnity ;  he  rarely 
opened  his  mouth  except  to  put  the  plainest  of  food 
into  it,  even  to  speak  to  Mr.  Polk.  His  brows  were 


The  Californians  263 

lowered  constantly  over  heavy  brooding  eyes ;  his  lips 
seemed  set  with  a  spring.  When  he  finally  addressed 
his  wife,  it  was  to  tell  her  that  she  must  manage  with 
one  butler  and  one  housemaid.  Coincidently  he  dis 
missed  two  of  the  gardeners  and  commanded  the  one 
retained,  and  Dick,  to  plant  in  a  part  of  the  lawns  that 
there  might  be  less  water  used.  Himself  came  from 
town  every  evening  and  worked  in  the  garden  for  two 
hours,  besides  arising  at  five  in  the  morning  and  work 
ing  until  breakfast.  He  sold  his  finest  carriage  horses 
to  Mr.  Geary ;  and  when  one  of  the  two  remaining  was 
temporarily  disabled,  he  rode  to  and  from  the  station  in 
the  spring  wagon.  The  monthly  allowance  of  his  wife 
and  daughter  was  suspended  for  the  summer. 

Mrs.  Yorba,  tall,  garbed  in  black,  stalked  about  the 
house  with  the  expression  of  an  outraged  empress; 
Magdale"na,  being  the  cause  of  the  outrage,  was  rarely 
addressed.  She  ostentatiously  made  over  several  of 
her  old  frocks  and  coldly  requested  her  daughter  to 
make  her  own  bed.  She  kept  all  the  windows  in  the 
house,  with  the  exception  of  one  in  each  room,  closed 
and  shuttered,  as  she  was  deprived  of  both  service 
and  water.  The  house  seemed  perpetually  expectant 
of  funeral  guests,  its  silence  only  broken  by  Mrs. 
Yovba's  heavy  sighs. 

Magdale"na  had  certainly  succeeded  in  making  three 
people  miserable  ;  she  could  only  hope  that  she  had 
been  more  fortunate  with  the  other  two.  She  spent 
most  of  her  time  out  of  doors,  riding  or  walking  until 
her  strength  was  exhausted.  She  was  profoundly 


264  The  Californians 

grateful  that  she  was  to  take  little  part  in  the  sociali 
ties  of  the  summer.  To  dance  and  picnic  and  ten 
nis  and  ride  to  the  hills,  exactly  as  she  had  done  when 
quite  another  person !  She  infinitely  preferred  the 
disapproval  of  her  parents  and  the  freedom  they  gave 
her. 


XVII 

TRENNAHAN  had  written  to  Magdatena  from  the  Islands, 
acknowledging  the  letter  she  had  written  him  after  her 
interview  with  her  father,  and  accepting  his  dismissal. 
He  returned  to  San  Francisco  the  last  of  May.  Almost 
immediately  she  received  a  letter  from  Helena  an 
nouncing  her  engagement  to  him. 

Helena,  while  in  Southern  California,  had  written  to 
Magdale"na  with  her  accustomed  regularity.  The  let 
ters  were  bitter  with  self-reproach  alternated  with  the 
very  joy  of  being  alive  in  that  opulent  southern  land. 
When  she  wrote  of  the  engagement  she  assured  the 
dearest  friend  she  had  on  earth  that  if  things  had 
turned  out  differently  she  should  have  gone  away  and 
got  over  it  somehow,  but  as  Magdatena's  decision  was 
irrevocable  she  intended  to  be  the  happiest  girl  in  the 
world ;  it  would  n't  do  anybody  a  bit  of  good  if  she 
was  n't.  Magdale"na  felt  no  bitterness  toward  her. 
She  had  lost  Trennahan  ;  the  woman  mattered  nothing. 
She  would  rather  it  were  Helena  than  another;  for 
who  else  could  make  him  so  happy?  But  she  knew 


The  Californians  265 

that  she  should  see  less  of  Helena  in  the  future,  and 
she  hardly  knew  whether  she  were  glad  or  sorry.  She 
wished  that  she  had  the  courage  to  ask  her  to  keep 
him  away  from  Menlo  Park  this  summer. 

The  other  girls  moved  down,  bringing  many  guests, 
and  she  saw  them  daily ;  habit  is  not  broken  in  a 
moment.  They  passed  through  Fair  Oaks  as  usual  on 
their  afternoon  drives,  stopping  for  a  chat ;  in  their 
char-a-bancs  or  on  the  verandah.  It  was  some  time 
before  they  discovered  the  changes  in  the  Yorba 
household,  and  when  they  did  they  merely  shrugged 
their  shoulders  at  the  old  don's  eccentricities.  The 
big  parlours  were  certainly  to  be  regretted ;  but  there 
were  other  parlours  that  were  not  half  bad,  and  it  was 
terribly  up-hill  work  entertaining  Don  Roberto.  They 
were  profoundly  sorry  for  Magdalena,  and  were  so  in 
sistent  in  their  demands  that  she  should  spend  much  of 
her  time  with  them  that  she  found  her  solitude  far  less 
complete  than  she  had  hoped.  But  Helena  and  Tren- 
nahan  were  not  to  come  down  until  the  first  of  July ; 
they  had  gone  with  Colonel  Belmont  to  the  Yosemite, 
Geysers  and  Big  Trees. 


XVIII 

TRENNAHAN  in  that  first  month  thought  little  of  Mag 
dalena.  He  hardly  knew  whether  he  were  happy  or 
not;  he  certainly  was  intoxicated.  Helena  was  both 
impassioned  and  shy,  a  companion  to  whom  words 


266  The  Californians 

were  hardly  a  necessary  medium  for  thought,  and 
magnificently  uncertain  of  mood.  Moreover,  whether 
riding  a  donkey  up  the  steep  dusty  grades  of  the 
Ybsemite,  or  half  veiled  in  a  mist  of  steam,  reeking  of 
Hell,  or  standing  with  wondering  eyes  and  parted  lips 
among  the  colossal  trees  of  Calaveras,  she  was  always 
beautiful.  And  Trennahan  worshipped  her  beauty  with 
the  strength  of  a  passion  which  had  sprung  from  a  long 
and  recuperative  sleep.  That  he  was  twice  her  age 
mattered  nothing  to  him  now.  Nothing  mattered  but 
that  she  was  to  be  wholly  his. 

The  morning  after  his  return  to  Menlo  he  awoke 
with  a  confused  sense  that  he  should  be  late  for  his 
morning  ride  with  Magdale"na.  He  laughed  as  his 
senses  rattled  into  place,  but  he  sighed  just  after ;  and 
both  the  laugh  and  the  sigh  were  Magdalena's,  grim  as 
the  former  may  have  been.  That  had  been  a  time  of 
peace  and  perfect  content,  and  he  could  never  forget 
it,  not  though  he  lived  long  years  of  unimaginable 
bliss  with  Helena  —  which  he  probably  would  not.  A 
part  of  his  life,  limited  and  stunted  a  part  as  it  was, 
belonged  irrevocably  to  Magdale"na.  He  concluded, 
after  some  hard  thinking,  that  it  was  his  best  part.  He 
had  given  her  something  of  his  soul,  and  he  had  no 
wish  to  take  it  back.  He  had  given  her  the  reviving 
aspirations  of  an  originally  noble  nature  ;  the  sun  of 
her  had  shone  upon  the  barren  soil,  and  the  harvest 
was  hers.  He  was  an  unimaginative  man,  but  he  was 
inclined  to  believe  that  if  there  was  a  future  existence, 
Magdatena  would  belong  to  him  then  and  for  ever,  that 


The  Californians  267 

something  even  less  definable  than  the  soul  of  each 
belonged  to  the  other  For  there  was  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of  in  his  love  for  Helena.  She  appealed  as 
powerfully  to  his  mind  and  heart  as  to  his  passion. 
But  there  was  something  beyond  all,  and  he  had  no 
name  for  it,  —  unless  it  were  that  principle  of  absolute 
good  as  distinguished  from  its  grades  and  variations ; 
and  it  belonged  to  the  girl  whom  he  certainly  no 
longer  wanted  in  this  life. 

He  wished  that  he  had  suggested  to  Helena  to  spend 
the  summer  in  San  Rafael  or  Monterey.  Menlo  Park 
belonged  to  Magdal£na ;  he  found  himself  hating  the 
thought  of  having  a  series  of  very  perfect  memories 
disturbed,  even  by  the  most  passionately  loved  of 
women.  And  so  Magdal^na  had  her  first  revenge. 

He  went  reluctantly  enough  to  Fair  Oaks  in  the 
afternoon.  The  very  leaves  whispered  as  they  drove 
through  the  woods.  He  had  protested,  but  Helena 
must  see  'L£na  at  once ;  she  could  never  be  entirely 
happy  until  she  had  looked  into  'Lena's  eyes  and  con 
vinced  herself  that  they  were  quite  unchanged.  And 
Trennahan  must  go,  too,  and  have  it  over.  Trennahan, 
who  only  crossed  her  whims  for  the  pleasure  of  making 
up  with  her  later,  admitted  that  she  was  right,  and  went. 

Mrs.  Yorba  was  on  the  verandah  receiving  Mrs. 
Geary  and  Mrs.  Brannan.  Magdalena  was  upstairs  in 
her  room.  The  monotony  of  those  afternoon  recep 
tions  had  taken  its  place  among  the  distasteful  things 
of  life,  and  she  was  determined  not  to  go  down  until 
she  was  sent  for.  Each  time  she  heard  wheels  she 


268  The  Californians 

went  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  The  third  time 
she  saw  Trennahan  and  Helena.  The  very  bones  of 
her  skeleton  seemed  to  fall  upon  each  other ;  she  sank 
to  the  ground  with  less  vigour  than  a  shattered  soldier. 
But  in  a  moment  she  gave  a  hard  gasp  and  pressed  her 
hands  to  her  face.  Then  she  heard  Helena's  voice, — 
that  sweet  husky  voice  which  was  not  the  least  potent 
of  her  charms. 

"  'Lena  !  'Lena  !     Well,  I  '11  go  look  for  her." 

Magdalena  scrambled  to  her  feet  and  fled  down 
the  hall  to  her  mother's  dressing-room.  There,  in  a 
cupboard,  was  always  a  decanter  of  sherry ;  for  Mrs. 
Yorba,  after  her  neuralgic  attacks,  was  often  faint. 
Magdalena  filled  a  glass,  drank  it,  and  blessed  the 
swift  fire  which  shook  her  will  free  and  made  a  disci 
plined  regiment  of  her  nerves.  She  was  so  delighted 
at  her  sudden  mastery  over  herself  that  she  ran  out 
into  the  hall,  caught  Helena  in  her  arms,  and  kissed 
her  demonstratively.  Helena  burst  into  tears.  "  You 
are  the  best  girl  on  earth,"  she  sobbed.  "  And  I  feel 
so  wicked ;  but  I  am  so  happy." 

Magdalena  dried  her  tears,  a  part  she  had  filled 
many  times.  "You  are  the  dearest  and  most  honest 
girl  in  the  world,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I  try  to  be  honest,  but  I  get  so  mixed  up.  I 
wish  I  could  have  a  new  set  of  commandments  handed 
down  all  for  myself,  and  that  I  could  have  made  the 
rough  draft  of  them.  Then  I'd  be  quite  happy.  But 
come  down  and  see  Jack,  —  I  could  n't  stand  John. 
He  's  awfully  brown  and  looks  splendid." 


The  Californians  269 

Trennahan  gave  Magdale"na's  hand  a  friendly  shake 
and  asked  her  what  the  plans  for  the  summer  were. 

"  Papa  has  a  frightfully  economical  fit  and  says  we 
are  not  to  entertain  any  more.  He  does  n't  even  allow 
us  enough  water  to  wash  the  windows;  and  if  this 
supply  of  gasoline  gives  out  before  the  end  of  the 
summer,  we  've  got  to  burn  oil." 

"  Magdalena  !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Yorba.  She  wondered 
if  her  contribution  to  the  Yorbas  had  suddenly  gone 
mad.  But  the  sherry  was  in  Magdalena's  head.  She 
was  quite  conscious  of  it,  but  recklessly  decided  to  let 
it  have  its  way  so  long  as  it  helped  her  to  convey  to 
Trennahan  the  information  that  he  was  no  more  to  her 
than  the  browning  tuberoses  on  the  lawn. 

"  It 's  only  what  everybody  knows,"  she  replied.  "  I 
am  sure  everybody  in  Menlo  has  discussed  him  thread 
bare.  Mr.  Trennahan,  you  happened  upon  him  in  the 
oasis  of  his  life ;  you  never  could  stand  it  to  dine  here 
now.  We  can  scarcely  see  to  eat,  and  he  never  opens 
his  mouth  except  to  swear  at  the  servants." 

Mrs.  Yorba  was  speeding  her  guests.  When  she 
returned,  she  gave  her  daughter  an  annihilating  glance 
and  went  into  the  house.  Trennahan  stared  at  Mag 
dalena.  He  saw  her  object,  but  could  not  guess  the 
motive-power  behind.  A  sudden,  sickening  fear  as 
sailed  him  :  Was  Magdalena  deteriorating  ?  And  he 
the  cause?  But  Magdalena  was  rattling  on.  The 
sherry  seemed  to  have  a  marvellous  power  over  one's 
wits  and  tongue.  Why  had  she  not  known  of  it  in  the 
days  when  she  had  longed  to  shine  ?  But  her  mother 


270  The  Californians 

did  not  approve  of  girls  drinking  wine,  and  she  had 
rarely  tasted  it,  although  until  recently  it  had  always 
been  on  the  table. 

"You  both  look  so  well,"  she  said.  "You  don't 
look  so  tired  as  most  engaged  people  do.  I  suppose 
you  don't  sit  up  every  night  until  twelve  talking  about 
yourselves,  as  they  generally  do,  I  am  told.  That  must 
be  so  fatiguing.  Mr.  Trennahan,  you  are  actually 
stouter.  You  don't  look  as  if  you  had  been  climbing 
perpendicular  mountains.  Is  it  true  that  a  man 
stepped  over  the  Bridal  Veil  backward  ?  Do  tell  me 
all  about  it  !  " 

Helena  was  staring  at  Magdal£na  with  her  mouth 
half  open.  She  was  the  least  obtuse  of  mortals ;  but 
although  she  knew  that  pride  was  at  the  root  of  Mag- 
datena's  extraordinary  behaviour,  she  concluded  that 
love  had  fled,  and  marvelled,  for  she  had  believed 
Magdalena  to  be  the  deepest  and  most  tenacious  of 
women.  But  she  was  very  glad. 

"  Well ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  Something  has  improved 
you  !  You  will  be  fairly  brilliant  by  next  winter.  And 
do  for  goodness'  sake,  'Lena,  give  Don  Roberto  to  un 
derstand  that  he 's  not  to  have  his  own  way.  He 's 
like  all  bullies  :  he  'd  soon  give  in  if  you  bullied  him. 
I  adore  papa,  and  would  do  anything  on  earth  for  him  ; 
but  if  he  had  been  born  a  different  sort,  and  gave  me 
trouble,  I  'd  find  more  than  one  way  of  bringing  him  to 
terms.  Just  flash  your  eyes  at  Don  Roberto  as  you  're 
flashing  them  at  us,  and  you  '11  see  the  difference  it  will 
make." 


The  Californians  271 

Has  she  ceased  to  love  me?  thought  Trennahan. 
Thank  God  !  —  at  least  I  ought  to. 

When  they  had  gone,  the  sherry  had  run  its  course, 
and  Magdatena  felt  very  much  ashamed  of  herself. 
I  overdid  it,  she  thought  in  terror,  as  she  recalled 
her  scintillating  remarks  and  elaborate  manner.  He 
must  have  suspected  !  I  '11  drink  no  more,  and  next 
time  I  '11  be  just  what  I  would  have  been  if  I  had  never 
laid  eyes  on  him  —  if  I  die  in  the  attempt.  And  how 
I  talked  !  What  things  I  said  !  Great  Heaven,  I  made 
a  complete  fool  of  myself ! 

And  the  knowledge  that  for  once  in  her  life  she  had 
thrown  her  dignity  and  pride  to  the  winds  put  her 
other  pain  to  flight,  and  she  had  at  least  one  night 
unracked  by  the  record  within  her. 


XIX 

Two  days  later  she  met  Trennahan  on  the  Mont- 
gomerys'  verandah.  She  was  her  old  sedate  self,  to  his 
unspeakable  relief.  That  Magdalena  should  change, 
be  less  than  the  admirable  creature  he  had  loved  when 
he  was  something  more  than  himself,  would  have 
seemed  no  less  a  calamity  than  had  the  stars  turned 
black.  She  sat  up  very  straight  in  her  prim  little  way 
and  talked  of  Helena's  new  project ;  which  was  to 
build  bath-houses  down  by  the  lagoon  at  Ravens- 
wood  and  bathe  when  the  tide  was  in.  He  told 
her  that  he  too  had  a  project :  to  persuade  the  men 


The  Californians 

of  Menlo  to  build  a  Club  House,  and  thus  have  some 
sort  of  informal  social  centre.  She  told  him  that  she 
thought  that  would  be  nice,  and  added  that  she 
wished  she  had  a  project  too,  but  she  was  hope 
lessly  unoriginal.  Trennahan  assured  her  that  she  did 
herself  injustice ;  and  in  these  admirable  platitudes 
they  pushed  along  a  half-hour  like  a  wheel-barrow, 
while  both  thought  of  the  great  oak  staring  at  them 
from  the  foot  of  the  garden. 

It  will  come  easier  with  time,  she  thought  that 
night,  as  she  pulled  her  clothes  off  with  heavy  fingers. 
I  can  almost  look  him  in  the  eyes  without  wanting  to 
fling  myself  at  him.  His  voice  does  not  matter  so  much, 
for  I  always  hear  it  anyway.  They  say  that  when  you 
no  longer  hear  a  person's  voice  in  your  memory  the 
love  has  gone  too.  They  will  be  away  for  a  year  after 
they  marry.  Perhaps  I  shall  forget  then.  My  memory 
is  not  very  good. 

She  opened  the  upper  drawer  of  her  bureau  and 
lifted  out  her  large  handkerchief  box.  In  its  lower 
part,  carefully  hidden  away,  were  Trennahan's  letters, 
several  of  his  faded  boutonnieres,  and  one  of  his  gloves. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  the  day  she  heard  of  his 
engagement  to  Helena  that  these  things  must  be 
burnt,  but  had  dreaded  their  sight  and  touch.  Now, 
however,  they  must  go.  She  was  always  conscious  of 
their  presence  ;  something  of  her  weakness  might  pass 
with  their  destruction.  As  she  lifted  out  the  handker 
chiefs  she  came  upon  the  dagger.  It  was  a  beautiful 
toy,  but  she  pushed  it  aside  resentfully.  Its  magic  was 


The  Californians  273 

not  for  her.  She  gathered  up  her  tokens  with  trem 
bling  fingers,  resisted  the  impulse  to  sit  down  and  weep 
over  them,  laid  them  in  the  grate,  and  flung  a  bunch  of 
lighted  matches  into  the  pyre. 

Helena  immediately  gave  a  party.  The  Belmont 
house,  like  most  of  the  others  of  Menlo,  had  been 
designed  for  comfort  rather  than  for  entertaining ;  but 
the  dining-room  was  large,  and  when  stripped  of  the 
many  massive  pieces  of  furniture  which  Colonel  Bel 
mont  had  brought  from  his  Southern  home,  would  have 
accommodated  more  dancing  folk  than  the  neighbours 
and  their  guests.  The  famous  Four  were  not  present ; 
nor  were  they  seen  in  Menlo  that  summer.  Imme 
diately  after  the  announcement  of  Helena's  engage 
ment  some  cruel  wag  had  sent  each  a  miniature  tub 
with  "  For  Tears  "  inscribed  with  black  paint  upon  the 
bottom.  It  was  generally  supposed  that  the  afflicted 
quartette  were  spending  their  leisure  over  these  tubs, 
for  they  had  retired  into  as  complete  an  obscurity  as 
their  various  callings  would  permit.  Helena  told  Mag- 
dalena  that  she  lived  in  terror  of  their  poisoned  or 
perforated  bodies  being  found  in  the  dark  byways  of 
Golden  Gate  Park ;  but  the  youth  of  the  modern 
civilisation,  while  amenable  to  suffering,  thinks  highly 
of  himself  as  a  factor  in  current  history. 

Trennahan  was  not  allowed  to  spend  the  evening  in 

the  smoking-room  with  the  older  men ;  he  must  keep 

himself  in    sight  even  while  his  Helena  was   dancing 

with  another.     He  wandered  about  with  a  grim  smile 

18 


274  The  Californians 

on  his  mouth,  talking  occasionally  to  the  older  ladieu 
who  sat  in  a  corner;  wall-flowers  there  were  none. 
He  wished  that  Magdaldna  would  take  pity  on  him,  for 
he  was  unmercifully  bored;  but  she  danced  with  ex 
asperating  regularity.  Occasionally  Helena  slipped 
her  hand  through  his  arm  and  took  him  out  in  the 
garden,  purring  upon  his  shoulder  and  begging  him 
not  to  be  bored ;  but  she  must  look  at  him  !  If  he 
insisted  upon  it,  she  would  not  dance.  He  refused  to 
countenance  such  a  sacrifice,  and  protested  that  he  was 
just  beginning  to  understand  the  pleasure  of  evening 
parties.  Once  he  did  slip  away,  and  was  lying,  with 
his  coat  off,  a  cigar  between  his  lips,  crosswise  on  a 
bed  upstairs  with  Colonel  Belmont  and  Mr.  Washing 
ton,  when  he  received  a  peremptory  message  to  go 
downstairs  at  once.  He  threw  his  cigar  away,  jerked 
himself  into  his  coat,  and  left  the  room  with  jeering 
condolences  in  his  wake.  He  felt  cross  for  the  mo 
ment  ;  but  when  he  reached  the  hall  below  he  smiled 
humorously  as  he  met  the  protesting  eyes  of  his  lady. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  have  you  out  of  my  sight !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  It 's  horribly  selfish,  but  I  feel  as  if 
everything  were  a  blank  when  you  are  out  of  the 
room." 

What  could  a  man  do  in  the  face  of  so  much  beauty 
and  so  much  affection,  but  to  vow  to  hold  up  the 
wall  for  the  rest  of  the  evening? 

As  he  was  taking  Magdalena  to  her  carriage  a  little 
after  midnight,  she  said  to  him  shyly,  — 

"  I  hope  you  are  quite  happy." 


The  Californians  275 

And  he  answered  with  unmistakable  fervour,  "  I  am 
indeed." 

Mrs.  Yorba  was  detained  by  Mrs.  Cartright,  who 
was  delivering  herself  of  many  words. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  love  is  everything  in  life  ?  " 
Magdaldna  asked  him. 

"  By  no  means.  Not  even  to  woman,  in  spite  of  the 
poets.  It  induces  intense  concentration  for  the  time, 
consequently  looms  larger  in  the  affairs  of  life  than  the 
million  other  scraps  that  go  to  make  up  the  vast  patch 
work.  But  it  is  as  well  to  remember  that  it  is  but  an 
occasional  patch  in  the  quilt,  even  if  it  be  of  the  most 
vivid  hue.  And  there  is  a  lot  to  be  got  out  of  the 
other  patches  !  " 

"  If  you  lost  Helena,  could  you  feel  like  that  ?  " 

"  In  time  ;  beyond  a  doubt.  Memory  simply  can 
not  hold  water  beyond  a  certain  strain ;  there  comes  a 
rift  at  last,  and  the  flood  pours  through." 

"  Then  if  you  lost  Helena,  should  you  feel  as  —  as  — 
you  did  when  you  came  here  first  ?  You  were  —  tired 
of  everything — you  remember.  You  told  me — you 
don't  mind  my  speaking  of  it?"  She  was  aghast  at 
her  inconsistency,  but  the  magnet  in  the  man  was  as 
irresistible  as  ever. 

"Mind?  From  you?  I  have  never  talked  to  a 
human  being  about  myself  as  I  have  talked  to  you.  I 
don't  know  what  would  happen  to  me  in  such  an  event. 
I  am  neither  a  fool  nor  a  drunkard,  remember.  I 
think  I  should  seek  entirely  new,  barely  comprehended, 
lands,  —  the  South  Sea  Islands,  for  instance.  I  have 


2j6  The  Californians 

wasted  my  life.  I  have  neither  the  energies  nor  the 
ambitions  to  pull  up  now.  I  should  simply  seek  new 
oranges  and  squeeze  them  dry.  There  are  always  the 
intellectual  pleasures,  you  know.  I  should  not  be 
proud  of  myself,  but  I  should  get  through  the  remain 
ing  years  somehow." 

"  There  was  something  else  —  I  should  not  speak 
of  it  —  " 

They  were  standing  in  the  shadow  of  the  char-a- 
banc.  Trennahan  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips.  "  I  was 
in  a  state  of  moral  chaos  when  I  met  you,  —  that  is 
what  you  mean.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  shall  be  again. 
Even  Helena  could  never  do  for  me  what  you  did. 
You  and  I  made  a  great  mistake,  but  we  generated  one 
of  those  singular  friendships  which  no  circumstances 
nor  time  can  annihilate.  Some  day  we  shall  take  up 
the  threads  where  they  broke  off.  I  always  look  for 
ward  to  that.  A  man  may  be  contented  with  one 
woman's  love,  but  not  with  one  woman's  friendship.  I 
am  glad  that  you  are  as  dear  to  Helena  as  you  are  to 
me.  In  time,  perhaps  we  may  all  three  live  more  or 
less  together." 

He  was  a  man  of  humour,  but  he  said  that.  She  was 
a  woman  of  little  humour,  but  she  laughed. 

XX 

THE  breathless  state  of  Helena's  affections  did  not. 
interfere  with  her  desire  to  lead  in  all  things  those  fa 
voured  of  her  acquaintance.  Although,  in  deference  to 


The  Californians  277 

Trennahan's  emphatic  wish,  she  forswore  eccentrici 
ties,  she  taxed  her  fertile  brain  to  keep  Menlo  Park  in 
a  whirl  of  excitement. 

"  It  can't  be  done,"  said  Rose.  "  The  climate  has 
poppy  dust  in  it  instead  of  oxygen,  but  she  may 
wake  us  up  for  a  while." 

She  did.  The  bath-houses  were  built,  and  the  big 
char-a-bancs  rolled  down  the  dusty  road  to  Ravens- 
wood  every  morning.  The  salt  water  and  the  sun 
brought  out  the  red  in  the  girls'  hair,  so  the  pastime 
promised  to  weather  one  season,  at  least.  She  gave 
dances  and  picnics  on  alternate  weeks,  and  her  hospi 
tality  in  the  matter  of  luncheons  and  dinners  was  un 
bounded.  The  Colonel  built  a  bowling-alley  and  a 
proper  tennis-court;  in  short,  there  was  no  doubt 
about  "The  Belmonts' "  being  the  nucleus  of  Menlo 
Park.  Several  times  Helena  persuaded  the  owner  of 
the  stage  line  between  Redwood  City  and  La  Honda 
to  let  her  drive  ;  and  she  took  a  select  few  of  her  friends 
on  the  top  of  the  lumbering  coach,  relegating  the  un 
easy  passengers  to  the  stuffy  interior.  The  road  is  one 
of  the  most  picturesque  in  California,  but  the  grades 
are  steep,  the  turnings  abrupt,  dangerous  in  many 
places.  Nevertheless,  Helena,  balancing  on  her  nar 
row  perch  high  above  the  wheelers'  heels,  managed  her 
rapid  mustangs  so  admirably  that  Trennahan,  balanc 
ing  beside  her,  wondered  if  he  should  be  able  to  manage 
her  one  half  so  well. 

"  What  Helena  Belmont  needs,"  said  Mrs.  Mont 
gomery,  with  some  asperity,  "  is  six  babies ;  and  I  hope 


278  The  Californians 

for  Mr.  Trennahan's  sake  she  '11  have  them.  Other 
wise,  I  should  like  to  know  where  the  poor  man  is  to 
get  any  rest ;  she  's  a  human  cyclone." 

"  I  never  thought  she  'd  marry  so  soon,"  replied 
Mrs.  Brannan.  "  It  looked  as  if  she  were  going  to  be 
a  regular  old-time  belle  ;  and  it  took  them  years  to  get 
through." 

"  She  's  not  married  yet,"  remarked  Mrs.  Montgomery. 

But  these  enormous  energies,  as  Rose  had  predicted, 
reached  their  meridian  in  something  under  two  months, 
after  which,  much  to  Trennahan's  relief,  Helena  suc 
cumbed  to  Menlo  Park,  and  manifested  an  increasing 
desire  for  long  hours  alone  with  him  under  the  trees  on 
the  lawn,  although  she  by  no  means  allowed  her  neigh 
bours  to  rest  for  more  than  seventy-two  hours  at  a 
time. 


XXI 

DON  ROBERTO  and  Mr.  Polk  took  no  part  in  these  fes 
tivities;  Mrs.  Yorba  and  Magdalena  took  less  and  less ; 
the  picture  made  by  Don  Roberto  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
manipulating  a  hose  as  the  char-a-banc  drove  off,  finally 
forbade  his  wife  to  riot  while  her  husband  toiled.  She 
was  angry  and  resentful ;  but  she  was  a  woman  of  stern 
principles,  and  she  had  a  certain  measure  of  that  sort 
of  love  for  her  husband  which  duty  prompts  in  those 
who  are  without  passion. 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  understand  your  father,"  she 


The  Californians  279 

said  to  Magdalena.  "  The  bees  he  gets  in  his  bonnet 
are  quite  beyond  me,  but  if  he  feels  that  way,  he  does, 
and  that 's  the  end  of  it ;  and  he  makes  me  feel  un 
comfortable  all  the  time  I  am  anywhere.  I  sha'n't  go 
out  again  until  he  gets  over  this.  You  can  go  with 
somebody  else." 

"  I  would  a  great  deal  rather  stay  home.  I  don't 
enjoy  myself.  People  work  so  hard  to  be  amused. 
I  'd  much  rather  just  sit  still  and  do  nothing." 

"  You  're  lazy,  like  all  the  Spanish.  Well,  you  '11 
have  to  do  a  good  deal  of  sitting  still,  I  expect ;  and  in 
a  sick  room,  I  'm  afraid.  Poor  Hiram  looks  thinner 
and  greyer  every  day.  Almost  all  our  relations  died 
of  consumption." 

"  I  wrote  to  aunt  how  badly  he  was  looking,  but 
she  has  not  answered." 

"She  won't,  the  heartless  thing.  She  never  loved 
him.  But  if  he  takes  to  his  bed  with  slow  consump 
tion,  she  '11  have  to  come  up  and  do  her  share  of  the 
nursing.  She  ought  to  like  it.  Fat  women  always 
make  good  nurses." 

Magdalena  was  more  than  glad  to  fall  out  of  the 
gaieties.  She  was  beginning  to  feel  that  most  demor 
alising  of  all  sensations,  —  the  disintegration  of  will. 
Pride,  a  certain  excitement,  and  novelty  had  kept  her 
armour  locked  for  a  time ;  but  each  time  she  met 
Trennahan,  the  ordeal  of  facing  him  with  platitudes, 
or,  what  was  worse  still,  in  occasional  friendly  talks, 
and  of  witnessing  Helena's  little  airs  of  possession, 
suggested  a  future  and  signal  failure.  She  came  to 


280  The  Californians 

have  a  morbid  terror  that  she  should  betray  herself, 
and  when  in  company  with  him  kept  out  of  the  very 
reach  of  his  voice.  She  never  went  to  the  woods,  lest 
she  meet  him,  with  or  without  Helena.  In  those  rust 
ling  arbours  of  many  memories,  she  knew  that  she 
should  let  fly  the  passion  within  her.  She  was  appalled 
that  neither  time  nor  will  nor  principle  had  authority 
over  her  love.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  that  she 
would,  if  not  tear  it  up  by  the  roots,  at  least  level  it  to 
the  soil  from  which  it  had  sprung,  and  she  was  quite 
ready  to  believe  that  love  was  not  all ;  that  with  her 
youth,  intellect,  and  wealth  there  was  much  in  life  for 
her.  But  the  plant  flourished  and  was  heavy  with 
bloom.  Even  while  she  avoided  him,  she  longed  for 
the  moment  when  he  must  of  necessity  speak  to  her. 
She  welcomed  the  excuse  to  secede  from  the  ranks 
of  pleasurers,  but  even  then  she  started  up  at  every 
sound  of  wheels  that  might  herald  his  approach.  She 
longed  for  the  wedding  to  be  over ;  but  Helena  would 
not  marry  before  December,  that  being  her  birth 
month  and  eminently  suitable,  in  her  logical  fancy,  for 
her  second  launching.  Colonel  Belmont,  having  sat 
isfied  himself  that  everyone  in  the  little  drama  had 
acted  with  honour,  was  well  pleased  with  his  son-in- 
law;  but  he  was  much  distressed  at  the  attitude  of 
the  old  friend  who  had  hoped  to  fill  a  similar  relation 
to  Trennahan.  Don  Roberto,  taciturn  with  every 
body,  refused  to  speak  to  Colonel  Belmont,  to  return 
his  courtly  salutation. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  natural/'  said  Colonel  Belmont  to 


The  Californians  281 

Helena.  "  Don  is  not  only  eccentric,  but  he  would 
almost  rather  lose  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  than  his 
own  way.  But  I  hope  he  '11  come  round  in  time,  for 
it  makes  me  feel  right  lonesome  in  my  old  age.  He 
and  Hi  were  the  only  real  intimates  I  have  had  in 
California,  and  now  Hi  is  going,  poor  old  fellow ! 
and  of  course  I  can  do  little  to  cheer  him  up  until 
Don  thaws  out." 

"  Do  you  feel  quite  well  yourself? "  asked  Helena, 
anxiously.  "  You  often  look  so  terribly  pale." 

"  I  never  was  better,  honey,  I  assure  you.  But 
remember  that  you  must  expect  to  lose  your  old  father 
some  day.  But  I  've  been  pretty  good  to  you,  have  n't 
I  ?  You  '11  have  nothing  but  pleasant  things  to  re 
member?  " 

"  You  're  the  very  best  angel  on  earth.  I  don't 
even  love  Jack  so  much.  I  thought  I  did,  but  I 
don't." 

"  Don't  you  love  him?  "  asked  her  father,  anxiously. 
He  was  eager  for  her  to  marry;  he  knew  that  his 
blood  was  white. 

"  Of  course  !     What  a  question  1 " 


XXII 

IT  was  an  intensely  hot  September  night.  Magdal^na, 
knowing  that  sleep  was  impossible,  had  not  gone  to 
bed.  She  wandered  restlessly  about  her  laige  room, 
striving  to  force  a  current  of  air.  Not  a  vibration 


282  The  Californians 

came  through  the  open  windows,  nor  a  sound.  The 
very  trees  seemed  to  lean  forward  with  limp  hanging 
arms.  Across  the  stars  was  a  dark  veil,  riven  at  long 
intervals  with  the  copper  of  sheet  lightning.  Her  room, 
too,  was  dark.  A  light  would  bring  a  pest  of  mos 
quitoes.  The  high-remote  falsetto  of  several,  as  it  was, 
proclaimed  an  impatient  waiting  for  their  ally,  sleep. 

Last  night,  Tiny  had  given  a  party,  and  wrung  from 
Magdaldna  a  promise  that  she  would  go  to  it.  Rose 
had  called  for  her.  At  the  last  moment  Magdale"na's 
courage  had  shrunk  to  a  final  shuddering  heap,  and 
as  she  heard  the  wheels  of  the  Geary  waggonette,  she 
had  run  upstairs,  and  flung  herself  between  the  bed 
clothes,  sending  down  word  that  she  had  a  raging 
toothache.  It  was  her  first  lie  in  many  years,  but  it 
was  better  than  to  dance  with  despair  and  agony 
written  on  her  relaxed  face  behind  the  windows  of 
the  garden  in  which  Trennahan  had  asked  her  to 
marry  him. 

To-night  she  was  seriously  considering  the  propo 
sition  of  going  to  her  aunt  in  Santa  Barbara,  with  or 
without  her  father's  consent.  Her  sense  of  duty  had 
not  tumbled  into  the  ruins  of  her  will,  but  she  argued 
that  in  this  most  crucial  period  of  her  life,  her 
duty  was  to  herself.  Helena  had  not  even  asked  her 
to  be  bridesmaid ;  she  took  her  acquiescence  for 
granted.  Magdatena  laughed  aloud  at  the  thought; 
but  she  could  not  leave  Helena  in  the  lurch  at  the 
last  moment.  When  she  got  to  Santa  Barbara,  she 
could  plead  her  aunt's  ill  health  as  excuse  for  not 


The  Californians  283 

returning  in  time  for  the  ceremony.  She  was  in  a 
mood  to  tell  twenty  lies  if  necessary,  but  she  would 
not  stand  at  the  altar  with  Trennahan  and  Helena. 
Her  passionate  desire  for  change  of  associations  was 
rising  rapidly  to  the  dignity  of  a  fixed  idea.  To-mor 
row  there  must  be  a  change  of  some  sort,  or  her  brain 
would  be  babbling  its  secrets.  Already  her  memory 
would  not  connect  at  times.  She  felt  sure  that  the 
prolonged  strain  had  produced  a  certain  congestion 
in  her  brain.  And  she  was  beginning  to  wonder  if 
she  hated  Helena.  The  fires  in  Magdatena  burned 
slowly,  but  they  burned  exceeding  hot. 

She  paused  and  thrust  her  head  forward.  For  some 
seconds  past  her  sub-consciousness  had  grasped  the 
sound  of  galloping  hoofs.  They  were  on  the  estate, 
by  the  deer  park;  a  horse  was  galloping  furiously 
toward  the  house. 

She  ran  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  She  could 
see  nothing.  Could  it  be  a  runaway  horse  ?  Was 
somebody  ill?  The  flying  feet  turned  abruptly  and 
made  for  the  rear  of  the  house,  then  paused  suddenly. 
There  was  a  furious  knocking. 

Magdal£na's  knees  shook  with  a  swift  presentiment. 
Something  had  happened  —  was  going  to  happen  — 
to  her.  She  stood  holding  her  breath.  Someone 
ran  softly  but  swiftly  up  the  stair,  and  down  the  hall, 
to  her  room.  She  knew  then  who  it  was,  and  ran 
forward  and  opened  the  door. 

"  Helena  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "What  is  the  matter? 
Something  has  —  Mr.  Trennahan  —  " 


284  The  Californians 

Helena  flung  herself  upon  Magdalena  and  burst  into 
a  passion  of  weeping.  Magdalena  stood  rigid,  ice  in 
her  veins.  "  Is  he  dead?"  she  managed  to  ask. 

"  No  !  He  is  n't.  I  wish  he  were  —  No,  I  don't 
mean  that  —  I  '11  tell  you  in  a  minute  —  Let  me  get 
through  first !  " 

Magdale"na  dragged  her  shaking  limbs  across  the 
room  and  felt  for  a  chair.  Helena  began  pacing 
rapidly  up  and  down,  pushing  the  chairs  out  of  her  way. 

"Would  you  like  a  light?  "  asked  Magdalena. 

"  No,  thanks ;  I  don't  want  to  be  eaten  alive  with 
mosquitoes.  Oh,  how  shall  I  begin?  I  suppose  you 
think  we  Ve  had  a  commonplace  quarrel.  I  wish  we 
had.  I  swear  to  you,  'Le'na,  that  up  to  to-night  I  loved 
him  —  yes,  I  know  that  I  did  !  I  was  rather  sorry  I  'd 
promised  to  marry  so  soon,  for  I  like  being  a  girl,  not 
really  belonging  to  anyone  but  myself,  and  I  love 
being  a  great  belle,  and  I  think  that  I  should  have 
begged  for  another  year  —  but  I  loved  him  better 
than  anyone,  and  I  really  intended  to  marry  him  —  " 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  marry  him?  " 

"  Don't  be  so  stern,  'Le'na  !  You  don't  know  all 
yet.  Lately  I  Ve  been  alone  with  him  a  great  deal, 
and  you  know  how  you  talk  about  yourselves  in  those 
circumstances.  I  had  told  him  everything  I  had  ever 
done  and  thought  —  most ;  had  turned  myself  in 
side  out.  Then  I  made  him  talk.  Up  to  a  certain 
point  he  was  fluent  enough ;  then  he  shut  up  like  a 
clam.  I  never  was  very  curious  about  men ;  but 
because  he  was  all  mine,  or  perhaps  because  I  did  n't 


The  Californians  285 

have  anything  else  to  think  about,  I  made  up  my  mind 
he  should  come  to  confession.  He  fought  me  off, 
but  you  know  I  have  a  way  of  getting  what  I  want  — 
if  I  don't  there's  trouble;  and  to-night  I  pulled  his 
past  life  out  of  him  bit  by  bit.  'Lena  !  he  's  had 
liaisons  with  married  women ;  he  's  kept  house  with 
women ;  he 's  seen  the  worst  life  of  every  city  !  For  a 
few  years  —  he  confessed  it  in  so  many  words  —  he 
was  one  of  the  maddest  men  in  Europe.  The  actual 
things  he  told  me  only  in  part ;  but  you  know  I  have 
the  instincts  of  the  devil.  'L£na,  he 's  a  human  slum, 
and  I  hate  him  !  I  hate  him  !  I  hate  him  !  " 

"But  that  all  belongs  to  his  past.  He  loves  you, 
and  you  can  make  him  better  —  make  him  forget  —  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  any  man  better.  I  love 
everything  to  be  clean  and  new  and  bright,  —  not 
mildewed  with  a  thousand  vices  that  I  would  never 
even  discuss.  Oh,  he  's  a  brute  to  ask  me  to  marry 
him.  I  hate  myself  that  I  've  been  engaged  to  him  ! 
I  feel  as  if  I  'd  tumbled  off  a  pedestal !  " 

"Are  you  so  much  better  and  purer  than  I?  I  knew 
much  of  this  ;  but  it  did  not  horrify  me.  I  knew  too, 
what  you  may  not  know,  that  he  came  here  in  a  criti 
cal  time  in  his  —  his  —  inner  life,  and  I  was  glad  to 
think  that  —  California  had  helped  him  to  become 
quite  another  man."  Her  voice  was  hoarse,  almost 
inarticulate. 

Helena  flung  herself  at  Magdal^na's  feet.  She  was 
trembling  with  excitement;  but  her  feverish  appeal 
for  sympathy  met  with  no  response. 


286  The  Californians 

"  That  is  another  thing  that  nearly  drove  me  wild,  — 
that  I  had  taken  him  away  from  you  for  nothing.  I 
know  you  don't  care  now ;  but  you  did  —  perhaps  you 
do  now  —  sometimes  I  've  suspected,  only  I  would  n't 
face  it  —  and  to  think  that  in  my  wretched  selfishness 
I  Ve  separated  you  for  ever  !  For  your  pride  would  n't 
let  you  take  him  back  now,  and  he  's  as  wild  about  me 
as  ever :  I  never  thought  he  could  lose  control  over 
himself  as  he  did  when  I  told  him  what  I  thought  of 
him  and  beat  him  on  the  shoulders  with  both  my 
fists.  He  turned  as  white  as  a  corpse  and  shook  like 
a  leaf.  Then  he  braced  up  and  told  me  I  was  a  little 
wild  cat,  and  that  he  should  leave  me  and  come  back 
when  I  had  come  to  my  senses,  that  he  had  no  inten 
tion  of  giving  me  up.  But  he  need  not  come  back. 
I  '11  never  lay  eyes  on  him  again.  While  he  was  let 
ting  me  get  at  those  things,  I  felt  as  if  my  love  for  him 
burst  into  a  thousand  pieces,  and  that  when  they  flew 
together  again  they  made  hate.  He  told  me  he  was 
used  to  girls  of  the  world,  who  understood  things ;  and 
that  the  girls  of  California  were  so  crude  they  either 
knew  all  there  was  to  know  by  experience,  or  else  they 
were  prudes  —  " 

Helena  paused  abruptly  and  caught  her  breath. 
She  had  felt  Magdaldna  extend  her  arm  and  stealthily 
open  a  drawer  in  the  bureau  beside  her  chair.  There 
was  nothing  remarkable  in  the  fact,  for  in  that 
drawer  Magdale*na  kept  her  handkerchiefs.  Neverthe 
less,  Helena  shook  with  the  palsy  of  terror;  the  cold 
sweat  burst  from  her  body.  In  the  intense  darkness 


The  Californians  287 

she  could  see  nothing,  only  a  vague  patch  where  the 
face  of  Magdale'na  was.  The  silence  was  so  strained 
that  surely  a  shriek  must  come  tearing  across  it.  The 
shriek  came  from  her  own  throat.  She  leaped  to  her 
feet  like  a  panther,  reached  the  door  in  a  bound,  fled 
down  the  hall  and  the  stair,  her  eyes  glancing  wildly 
over  her  shoulder,  and  so  out  to  her  horse.  It  is 
many  years  since  that  night,  but  there  are  silent 
moments  when  that  ride  through  the  woods  flashes 
down  her  memory  and  chills  her  skin,  —  that  mad  flight 
from  an  unimaginable  horror,  through  the  black  woods 
on  a  terrified  horse,  the  shadow  of  her  fear  racing  just 
behind  with  outstretched  arms  and  clutching  fingers. 

Helena's  sudden  flight  left  Magdale'na  staring  through 
the  dark  at  the  Spanish  dagger  in  her  hand.  Her 
arm  was  raised,  her  wrist  curved ;  the  dagger  pointed 
toward  the  space  which  Helena  had  filled  a  moment 
ago. 

"  I  intended  to  kill  her,"  she  said  aloud.  "  I  in 
tended  to  kill  her." 

The  mental  admission  of  the  design  and  its  frustra 
tion  were  almost  simultaneous.  Her  brain  was  still  in  a 
hideous  tumult.  Weakened  by  suffering,  the  shock  of 
Helena's  fickleness  and  injustice,  the  sudden  percep 
tion  that  her  sacrifice  had  been  useless,  if  not  absurd, 
had  disturbed  her  mental  balance  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  left  her  at  the  mercy  of  passions  hitherto  inex- 
istent  to  her  consciousness.  Her  love  for  her  old 
friend,  long  trembling  in  the  balance,  had  flashed  into 
hate.  Upon  hate  had  followed  the  murderous  impulse 


288  The  Californians 

for  vengeance ;  not  for  her  own  sake,  but  for  that  of 
the  man  whose  weakness  had  ruined  her  life  and  his 
own.  In  the  very  height  of  her  sudden  madness  she 
was  still  capable  of  a  curious  misdirected  feminine 
unselfishness. 

When  she  came  to  herself,  chagrin  that  she  had 
failed  to  accomplish  her  purpose  possessed  her  mind 
for  the  moment,  although  she  had  made  no  attempt 
to  follow  Helena,  beyond  springing  to  her  feet.  Then 
her  conscience  asserted  itself,  and  reminded  her  that 
she  should  be  appalled,  overcome  with  horror,  at  the 
awful  possibilities  of  her  nature.  The  picture  of  Helena 
in  the  death  struggle,  bleeding  and  gasping,  rose  be 
fore  her.  Her  knees  gave  way  with  horror  and  fright, 
and  she  fell  upon  her  chair,  dropping  the  dagger  from 
her  wet  fingers,  staring  at  the  grim  spectre  of  her 
friend.  Then  once  more  the  sound  of  galloping  hoofs 
came  to  her  ears.  Both  Helena  and  herself  were  safe. 

In  a  few  moments  her  thoughts  grouped  themselves 
into  a  regret  deeper  and  bitterer  still.  She  was  capable 
of  the  highest  passion,  and  Circumstance  had  diverted 
it  from  its  natural  climax  and  impelled  it  toward  mur 
der.  She  sat  there  and  thought  until  morning  on  the 
part  to  which  she  had  been  born;  the  ego  dully  at 
tempting  to  understand,  to  realise  that  its  imperious 
demands  receive  little  consideration  from  the  great 
Law  of  Circumstance,  and  are  usually  ignored. 


The  Californians  289 


XXIII 

THE  next  morning  Magdalena  did  as  wise  a  thing  as 
if  inspired  by  reason  instead  of  blind  instinct :  she  got 
on  her  horse  and  rode  for  six  hours.  When  she  re 
turned  home  she  was  exhausted  of  body  and  inert  of 
brain.  She  found  a  note  from  Helena  awaiting  her. 

DEAREST  'LENA,  —  What  a  tornado  and  an  idiot  you 
must  think  me  !  I  cannot  explain  my  extraordinary  depar 
ture.  I  suppose  I  was  in  such  a  nervous  state  that  I  was  ob 
sessed  in  some  mysterious  manner  and  went  off  like  a 
rocket.  I  can  assure  you  I  feel  like  a  stick  this  morning. 
You  will  forgive  me,  won't  you  ?  for  you  know  that  al 
though  my  affections  do  fluctuate  for  some  people,  they 
never  do  for  you. 

Well !  this  morning  I  had  a  scene  with  papa.  He  was 
very  angry,  talked  about  honour  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
said  that  I  was  an  unprincipled  flirt,  and  that  I  expected 
too  much  of  a  man.  But  when  I  said  I  could  not  under 
stand  how  so  perfect  a  man  as  himself  could  wish  his 
daughter  to  marry  a  rake,  he  never  said  another  word,  but 
went  off  and  wound  up  with  Mr.  Trennahan.  I  don't  know 
what  they  said  to  each  other  ;  I  don't  care.  It 's  all  too 
dreadful  to  think  about,  and  I  never  want  to  hear  the  sub 
ject  mentioned  again. 

We  're  going  to  Monterey  this  afternoon  to  remain  till 
the  end  of  the  season,  and  then  we  '11  go  to  the  Blue  Lakes 
for  a  little  before  settling  down  for  the  winter.  I  'm  tired 
of  Menlo.  Can't  you  come  to  Monterey  for  a  week  or 
two  ?  Do  think  about  it.  I  haven't  a  minute  to  go  over 
to  Fair  Oaks  to  say  good-bye,  but  perhaps  you  '11  come  to 
the  train.  HELENA. 

19 


290  The  Californians 

Magdalena  got  some  luncheon  from  the  pantry,  then 
went  to  bed  and  slept  until  six  o'clock.  At  dinner 
Mr.  Polk  said  to  her,  — 

"  I  saw  Trennahan  this  afternoon  in  a  hack  with  a 
lot  of  luggage  on  behind,  and  I  stopped  the  driver  and 
got  in,  and  went  to  the  ferry  with  him.  His  engage 
ment  with  Helena  Belmont  is  broken,  it  seems,  and  he 
is  off  for  Samoa.  Looked  like  the  devil,  but  was  as 
polite  as  ever,  and  asked  me  to  say  good-bye  to  all 
of  you." 

Don  Roberto  looked  up.  "  When  he  coming  back  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  You  know  as  much  about  that  as  I  do ;  or  as  he 
does,  I  guess.  He  told  me  that  he  was  going  to  ex 
plore  the  South  Seas  thoroughly,  and  that  ought  to 
take  as  many  years  as  he  's  got  left,  and  more  too." 

It  was  two  or  three  days  before  Magdalena  realised 
what  a  relief  it  was  to  have  Trennahan  out  of  the 
country.  It  moved  him  back  among  the  memories, 
and  struck  from  her  imagination  agitating  possibilities. 
And  he  belonged  to  no  woman  !  He  could  never  be 
hers,  but  at  least  she  could  love  him.  Already  she 
had  begun  to  do  so  with  a  measure  of  calm.  She 
could  hide  him  in  her  soul  and  count  him  wholly  hers ; 
and  the  prospect  seemed  far  sweeter  and  more  satis 
factory  than  she  should  have  imagined  of  such  im 
material  union.  And  some  day,  she  believed,  he 
would  write  to  her.  He  had  spoken  authoritatively 
of  the  permanence  of  their  friendship,  and  of  its  ne 
cessity  to  him.  He  had  not  loved  her,  as  men  count 


The  Californians  291 

love,  but  for  a  little  she  had  been  to  him  something 
more  than  other  women  had  been.  The  spiritual 
sympathy  which  had  been  rudely  interrupted,  but  had 
surely  existed,  taught  her  this.  In  time  he  would  be 
come  conscious  again  of  the  bond,  and  his  letters 
alone  would  be  something  to  live  for. 

And  she  had  much  else.  In  the  evenings  when  her 
father  was  weeding  on  the  lawn,  she  devoted  herself  to 
her  uncle  ;  and  he  seemed  grateful  for  her  attentions, 
slight  as  was  his  response.  He  was  visibly  shrinking 
to  his  skeleton,  although  he  neither  coughed  nor  com 
plained,  and  went  to  town  every  morning  with  the 
regularity  of  his  youth.  But  his  gaunt  face  was  less 
savagely  determined,  his  eyes  had  lost  the  hard  surface 
of  metal;  and  one  evening  when  Magdale"na  slipped 
her  hand  into  his,  he  clasped  and  held  it  until  Don 
Roberto,  gloomy  and  perspiring,  came  panting  across 
the  drive. 

And  almost  immediately  Magdale"na  began  to  write. 
She  did  not  go  to  her  nook  in  the  woods,  but  after  her 
morning  ride  she  wrote  in  her  room  until  luncheon. 
She  told  her  mother  of  her  literary  plans  and  asked 
her  advice  about  making  a  similar  announcement  to 
her  father.  Between  astonishment  and  consternation 
Mrs.  Yorba  gasped  audibly,  and  her  impassive  counte 
nance  looked  as  if  the  hinges  had  fallen  out  of  its  muscles. 

"  For  God's  sake  don't  tell  your  father  !  "  she  ex 
claimed  ;  and  she  was  not  given  to  strong  language. 
"  I  don't  believe  you  can  write,  anyhow,  and  we  should 
only  have  a  terrible  scene  for  nothing." 


29 2  The  Californians 

Magdale"na  accepted  the  advice.  Her  father  showed 
so  little  sense  of  his  duty  as  a  parent  that  her  own  was 
growing  adaptable  to  circumstances,  although  she  was 
still  determined  not  to  publish  without  his  knowledge. 
She  had  not  returned  to  her  English  romance  :  that 
had  been  consigned  to  the  flames,  and  was  now  medi 
tating  in  that  limbo  which  receives  the  wraiths  of  the 
lame,  the  halt,  and  the  blind  of  abortive  talent.  She 
was  at  work  upon  the  simplest  of  the  Old-Californian 
tales. 

On  the  Saturday  afternoon  after  Helena's  departure 
for  Monterey  Rose  called  and  invited  Magdalena  to 
drive  with  her  to  the  train  to  meet  Mr.  Geary.  Tiny 
and  Ila,  who  were  with  her,  added  their  insistence,  and 
Magdalena,  having  no  reasonable  excuse,  joined  them. 
As  they  drove  through  the  woods  Ila  confided  her  en 
gagement  to  young  Washington,  and  was  kissed  and 
congratulated  in  due  form. 

"  I  'm  going  to  live  in  Paris,"  she  announced.  "  No 
more  California  for  me.  You  might  as  well  be  on 
Mars,  in  the  first  place,  and  everybody  cackles  over 
your  private  affairs,  in  the  second.  For  the  matter  of 
that,  you  have  n't  any." 

"  I  think  it 's  disloyal  of  you  to  desert  California," 
said  Tiny.  "  I  have  a  feeling  that  we  should  all  keep 
together,  and  to  the  country." 

"  That 's  a  very  fine  sentiment,  but  though  I  love 
you  none  the  less,  I  want  to  live.  I  intend  to  be  the 
best-dressed  American  in  Paris.  That 's  a  reputation 
worth  having." 


The  Californians  293 

"  I  'm  going  East  to  find  a  husband,"  said  Rose, 
shamelessly.  "  There  's  no  one  to  marry  here.  Alan 
Rush  would  not  have  been  half  bad,  but  he  might 
as  well  be  in  an  urn  on  Helena's  mantelpiece.  I  like 
Eastern  men  best,  anyhow." 

"  Why  not  go  to  Southern  California?  "  asked  Tiny. 
"  It 's  not  so  far  as  New  York ;  and  there  are  always 
plenty  of  them  there." 

"  I  should  feel  like  a  ghoul,  —  man-hunting  in  One- 
lungdom,  as  Mr.  Bierce  calls  it.  Besides,  I  'd  rather 
die  an  old  maid  than  have  a  sick  man  on  my  hands 
for  five  minutes.  I  'm  not  heartless,  but  —  well,  we  've 
all  had  our  experiences  with  fathers  and  brothers.  A 
sick  man  's  an  anomaly,  somehow  :  he  does  n't  fit  into  a 
woman's  imagination." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  marry  at  all,"  said  Tiny.  "  Fancy 
what  a  lot  of  bother.  It's  so  comfortable  just  to 
drift  along  like  this." 

"  Tiny,"  said  Rose,  "you  're  a  Menlo  Park  poppy." 

They  had  arrived  at  the  station,  the  pretty  station 
under  its  great  oak,  and  flanked  by  its  beds  of  bloom. 
Eight  or  ten  other  equipages  were  there,  waiting  for 
the  "  Daisy  train,"  —  the  fast  train  from  town  which  on 
Saturday  afternoons  carried  many  San  Franciscans  to 
Monterey. 

The  women  were  in  their  bright  summer  attire  and  full 
of  chatter ;  as  the  train  was  not  due  for  some  moments, 
several  got  out  of  their  carriages  and  went  to  other 
carriages  to  gossip.  It  was  a  very  lively  and  agreeable 
scene :  there  being  no  outsiders,  they  were  like  one 


294  'The  Californians 

large  family.  In  the  middle  of  the  large  open  space 
beside  the  platform  stood  several  of  the  phaetons  and 
waggonettes  whose  horses  stepped  high  at  sight  of  the 
engine.  On  the  far  side  was  a  row  of  Chinese  wash- 
houses,  in  whose  doors  stood  the  Mongolians,  no  less 
picturesque  than  the  civilisation  across  the  way.  Be 
hind  them  was  the  tiny  village  of  Menlo  Park.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  the  track  was  a  row  of  high 
closely  knit  trees  which  shut  the  Folsom  place  from 
the  passing  eye.  Caro,  under  a  big  pink  sunshade, 
had  walked  over  to  chat  with  her  friends  and  escort 
her  visitors  home. 

The  train  rolled  in  and  discharged  its  favoured  few. 
The  wait  was  short,  and  Mr.  Geary  was  still  mounting 
the  steps  of  his  char-a-banc  when  Magdalena  sat  for 
ward  with  a  faint  exclamation.  The  smoking-car  was 
slowly  passing.  Four  hats  at  four  consecutive  win 
dows  were  raised  as  they  drifted  past.  They  were  the 
hats  of  Alan  Rush,  Eugene  Fort,  Carter  Howard,  and 
"  Dolly  "  Webster. 


XXIV 

THE  Yorba  house  on  Nob  Hill  was  the  gloomiest 
house  in  San  Francisco  in  any  circumstances  ;  upon 
the  return  of  the  family  to  town  this  year  it  suggested 
a  convent  of  perpetual  silence.  Mrs.  Yorba,  bereft  of 
her  full  corps  of  servants,  herself  shook  the  curtains 
free  of  their  loops  and  pinned  them  together.  "  Ah 


The  Californians  295 

Kee  can  play  the  hose  on  the  windows  from  the  out 
side  once  a  month,"  she  remarked  to  her  daughter; 
"  but  Heaven  only  knows  when  they  will  be  washed 
inside  again,  or  how  often  poor  Ah  Kee  will  have  time 
to  sweep  the  rooms.  I  shall  make  an  attempt  to  keep 
the  reception-room  in  some  sort  of  order ;  and  as  it  is 
comparatively  small  and  I  can  dust  it  myself,  I  may 
succeed,  but  I  don't  suppose  anyone  will  ever  enter 
the  parlours  again.  There  seems  no  hope  of  your 
father  coming  to  his  senses." 

Magdalena  flung  her  own  curtains  wide,  determined 
to  have  light  if  she  had  to  wash  the  windows  herself. 
But  the  rest  of  the  house  chilled  and  oppressed  her. 
Even  her  mother's  bedroom  was  half-lighted,  and  the 
halls  and  rooms  downstairs  were  echoing  vaults.  One 
was  almost  afraid  to  break  the  silence  ;  even  the  soft- 
footed  Chinaman  walked  on  his  toes.  Magdalena  con 
ceived  the  whimsical  idea  that  her  father's  house  had 
been  closed  to  receive  all  the  family  skeletons  of  San 
Francisco,  of  which  many  whispers  had  come  to  her. 
Sometimes  she  fancied  that  she  heard  their  bones 
rattling  at  night,  as  they  crowded  together,  muttering 
their  terrible  secrets.  But  the  idea  only  amused  her ; 
it  did  not  make  her  morbid,  although  there  was  little  but 
her  own  will  to  keep  her  spirits  on  a  plane  where  there 
was  more  light  than  bog.  It  was  a  very  grey  and  rainy 
winter.  She  was  forced  to  spend  the  afternoons  after  four 
o'clock  in  idleness :  Don  Roberto  himself  turned  off 
the  gas  every  morning  before  he  went  down  town,  and 
on  again  at  seven  in  the  evening.  The  meals  in  the 


296  The  Californians 

dining-room,  naturally  the  darkest  room  in  the  house, 
were  eaten  in  absolute  silence.  In  fact,  it  was  seldom 
that  anyone  spoke  except  on  Mrs.  Yorba's  reception 
day.  Herself  wore  the  air  of  a  stoic.  Don  Roberto's 
keen  eyes  searched  his  wife  and  daughter  now  and 
again  for  any  sign  of  extravagance  in  attire,  but  he 
rarely  addressed  them  except  on  the  first  of  the  month, 
when  he  demanded  their  accounts.  He  peremptorily 
forbade  them  to  go  out  after  dusk,  as  the  night  air  was 
bad  for  the  horses.  The  evenings  he  spent  in  his  study 
with  his  brother-in-law.  Mrs.  Yorba  and  Magdatena 
sat  in  their  respective  rooms  until  nearly  half-past  ten ; 
when  Don  Roberto  went  the  rounds  to  see  that  the 
lights  were  out.  Were  it  not  for  his  fear  of  earth 
quakes,  he  would  have  turned  off  the  gas  at  that  hour, 
but  he  permitted  a  tiny  spark  to  burn  in  the  halls  all 
night.  Occasionally  Mr.  Polk  came  home  early  and 
went  to  Magclale"na's  little  sitting-room,  the  old  school 
room,  and  sat  with  her  for  an  hour  or  two.  He  said 
little  and  never  talked  of  himself.  She  longed  to  bring 
her  aunt  back  to  this  lonely  old  man,  but  did  not  know 
in  the  least  how  to  go  about  it,  and  the  subject  never 
was  mentioned  between  them ;  he  might  have  been  a 
bachelor  or  a  widower.  But  as  he  sat  staring  into  the 
fire,  Magdalena  was  convinced  that  he  was  thinking  of 
his  wife.  She  had  never  entered  his  house  since  the 
day  of  her  strange  discovery ;  delicacy  kept  her  away, 
but  her  feminine  curiosity  often  tempted  her  to  go 
in  and  see  if  the  fires  were  burning,  the  flowers  and 
magazines  on  the  table.  Sometimes  at  night  she  heard 


The  Californians  297 

footsteps  in  the  connecting  gardens  behind  the  houses, 
and  fancied  they  were  those  of  her  uncle,  gone  on 
what  pilgrimage  she  dared  not  imagine. 

She  and  Helena  met  again  early  in  November. 
They  greeted  each  other  with  all  their  old  cordiality, 
but  there  was  a  barrier,  and  both  felt  it.  Still,  they 
exchanged  frequent  visits,  and  Magdale"na  was  always 
interested  in  Helena's  new  conquests  and  dazzling 
regalities.  Helena  was  enjoying  herself  mightily. 
She  had  all  her  old  admirers  exhausting  and  coining 
adjectives  at  her  feet,  and  a  number  of  distinguished 
foreigners,  who  were  spending  the  winter  in  San 
Francisco.  She  could  not  drive,  nor  yacht,  nor  run  to 
fires,  on  account  of  the  weather,  but  she  unloosed  her 
energies  upon  indoor  society,  and  started  a  cotillon 
club,  and  an  amateur  opera  company.  She  gave  a 
fancy  dress  ball,  to  which  all  her  guests  were  obliged  to 
come  in  the  costumes  of  Old  California,  and  laughed  for 
a  week  at  the  ridiculous  figure  which  most  of  them  cut. 
She  also  gave  many  dinners  and  breakfasts,  kettle-drums 
and  theatre  parties,  and,  altogether,  managed  to  amuse 
herself  and  others.  She  never  mentioned  Trennahan 
to  Magdale"na.  Nor  did  he  write.  The  Pacific  might 
have  been  climbing  over  him,  for  any  sign  he  gave. 

XXV 

IT  was  midnight,  and  Magdale*na  was  still  awake ; 
a  storm  raged,  prohibitive  of  sleep.  The  wind 
screamed  over  the  hills,  tearing  the  long  ribbons  of 


298  The  Californians 

rain  to  bits  and  flinging  them  in  great  handfuls  against 
the  windows ;  from  which  they  rebounded  to  the  porch 
to  skurry  down  the  pipes  and  gurgle  into  the  pools  of 
the  soaked  ground  below.  The  roar  of  the  ocean 
bore  aloft  another  sound,  a  long  heavy  groan,  —  the 
fog-horn  of  the  Farallones.  Magdale'na  imagined  the 
wild  scene  beyond  the  Golden  Gate  :  the  ships  driven 
out  of  their  course,  bewildered  by  the  fog,  the  loud 
unceasing  rattle  of  the  rigging,  the  hungry  boom  of 
the  breakers,  the  mountains  and  caverns  of  the  raging 
Pacific.  Her  mind,  open  to  impressions  once  more, 
stirred  as  it  had  not  during  its  period  of  subservience 
to  the  heart,  and  toward  expression.  Suffering  had 
not  worked  those  wonders  with  her  literary  faculty  of 
which  she  had  read ;  but  she  certainly  wrote  with 
something  more  of  fluency,  something  less  of  atten 
uated  commonplace.  She  had  finished  her  first  story ; 
and  although  it  by  no  means  satisfied  her,  she  had 
passed  on  to  the  next,  determined  to  write  them  all ; 
then,  with  the  education  accruing  from  long  practice, 
to  go  back  to  the  beginnings  and  make  them  literature. 
To-night  she  forgot  her  stories  and  lay  wondering  at 
the  ghostly  images  rolling  through  her  brain,  breaking 
upon  the  wall  which  stood  between  themselves  and 
speech,  —  hurled  back  to  rise  and  form  again.  What 
did  it  mean?  Was  some  dumb  dead  poet  trying  to 
speak  through  her  brain,  inextricably  caught  in  the 
folds  of  her  ravening  intelligence  before  recognising 
its  fatal  limitations?  Or  was  that  intelligence  but  the 
half  of  another,  divided  out  there  in  eternity  before 


The  Californians  299 

being  sucked  earthwards?  It  was  seldom  that  such 
fancies  came  to  her  nowadays,  but  to-night  the  storm 
shrieked  with  a  thousand  voices,  no  one  of  which  was 
unfamiliar  to  these  ghosts  in  her  mind.  She  had 
heard  the  expression  "hell  let  loose"  variously  ap 
plied.  Were  those  the  souls  of  old  and  wicked  mates 
tossed  into  the  wild  playground  of  the  storm,  helpless 
and  furious  shuttle-cocks,  yelling  their  protests  with 
furious  energy?  The  idea  that  she  too  might  have 
been  wicked  once  thrilled  Magdale'na  unexpectedly  : 
she  had  had  a  few  sudden  brief  lapses  into  primal 
impulse,  accompanied  by  a  certain  exaltation  of  mind. 
As  she  recalled  them  the  rest  of  her  life  seemed  flat 
by  comparison,  and  unburdened  with  meaning ;  some 
thing  buried,  unsuspected,  left  over  from  another 
existence,  shook  itself  and  made  as  if  to  leap  to  those 
doomed  wretches,  heavy  with  memories,  buffeting  each 
other  on  the  tides  of  the  storm. 

A  crash  brought  her  upright.  It  had  been  preceded 
by  a  curious  bumping  along  the  front  of  the  house. 
She  realised  in  a  moment  what  it  meant :  the  flag-pole 
had  snapped  and  been  hurled  to  the  ground.  She 
thought  of  her  father's  dismay,  and  shuddered  slightly ; 
she  was  in  a  mood  to  greet  omens  hospitably. 

Suddenly  her  eyes  fixed  themselves  expandingly 
upon  the  door.  She  was  cast  in  a  heroic  mould ;  but 
the  storm  and  the  vagaries  of  her  imagination  had 
unnerved  her,  and  she  shook  violently  as  the  knob 
was  softly  turned  and  the  door  moved  forward  with 
significant  care.  Had  her  father  gone  suddenly  mad? 


300  The  Californians 

The  possibility  had  crossed  her  mind  more  than  once. 
She  would  lock  her  door  hereafter. 

"What  is  it?"  she  faltered. 

The  door  was  pushed  open  abruptly.  Her  uncle 
stood  there.  For  a  moment  she  thought  it  was  his 
ghost.  The  dim  light  of  the  hall  shone  on  a  ghastly 
face,  and  he  wore  a  long  gown  of  grey  flannel.  He 
held  one  hand  pressed  against  his  chest.  In  another 
second  she  heard  the  rattling  of  his  breath.  She 
sprang  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  him. 

"  I  am  going  to  die,"  Mr.  Polk  said.  "  Telegraph 
and  ask  her  to  come." 

She  led  him  to  his  room,  roused  her  father  and 
mother,  telephoned  for  the  doctor  and  a  messenger 
boy,  then  went  to  her  room,  dressed,  and  wrote  the 
telegram.  She  had  little  time  to  think,  but  the  ap 
proach  of  death  made  her  hands  shake  a  little,  and 
lent  an  added  significance  to  the  horrid  sounds  with 
out.  Death  had  been  a  mere  name  before  these  last 
few  moments  ;  he  suddenly  became  an  actual  presence 
stalking  the  storm. 

The  bell  rang.  She  went  down  to  the  door  herself. 
It  was  the  messenger  boy.  She  gave  him  the  telegram 
to  despatch,  and  told  him  to  return  and  to  remain  on 
duty  all  night.  Then  she  went  to  her  uncle's  room. 
Her  mother  and  a  dishevelled  maid  were  compound 
ing  mustard  plasters  and  heating  water.  Her  father 
was  huddled  in  an  armchair,  staring  at  the  gasping 
form  on  the  bed.  Magdale"na  shuddered.  His  face 
was  more  terrible  to  look  on  than  the  sick  man's. 


The  Californians  301 

"  It 's  pneumonia,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Yorba,  in 
the  hushed  whisper  of  the  sick  room,  although  her 
hard  voice  was  little  more  sympathetic  in  its  lower 
register.  "  He  was  wet  through  when  he  came  home 
this  afternoon.  I  should  think  it  had  rained  enough 
for  one  year." 

The  doctor  came  and  eased  the  sufferer  with 
morphine  ;  but  he  gave  the  watchers  no  hope. 

"  He  has  no  lungs,  anyhow,"  he  said.  "  This 
abrupt  climax  is  rather  a  mercy  than  otherwise." 

Magdale"na  remained  by  the  bedside  during  all  of 
the  next  day.  Early  in  the  morning  a  telegram  came 
from  Mrs.  Polk,  saying  that  she  was  about  to  start  on 
a  special  train.  The  message  was  read  to  her  husband, 
and  he  whispered  to  Magdale"na,  "  I  should  live  until 
she  came,  —  if  she  took  a  week."  That  was  the  only 
remark  he  made  until  late  in  the  day,  when  he 
motioned  to  Magdatena  to  bend  her  ear  to  his  lips. 
"Don't  waste  your  youth,"  he  whispered;  and  then 
he  coloured  slightly,  as  if  ashamed  of  having  broken 
the  reticence  of  a  lifetime. 

Don  Roberto  barely  moved  from  the  chair  which 
commanded  a  view  of  the  dying  man's  face.  His 
own  shrank  visibly.  He  neither  ate  nor  drank.  His 
sunken  terror-struck  eyes  seemed  staring  through  the 
passing  face  on  the  high  pillows  into  an  inferno 
beyond. 

"  I  declare,  he  gives  me  the  horrors,  and  I  'm  not  a 
nervous  woman,"  said  Mrs.  Yorba  to  her  daughter. 
"  I  never  could  understand  your  father's  queer  ways. 


302  The  Californians 

Who  would  ever  have  thought  that  he  could  care  for 
anyone  like  that  ?  Poor  Hiram !  No  one  can  feel 
worse  than  I  do ;  but  he  has  to  go,  and  as  the  doctor 
says,  this  is  a  mercy ;  there  's  no  use  acting  as  if  you 
had  lost  your  last  friend  on  earth." 

"  Perhaps  that 's  the  way  papa  feels ;  and  as  you 
say,  he  's  not  like  other  people." 

The  only  other  person  in  the  sick-room  was  Colonel 
Belmont.  He  came  over  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the 
attack,  and  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  bed  all  day, 
when  he  was  not  attempting  to  make  himself  useful. 
His  old  comrade  smiled  when  he  entered ;  but  Mr. 
Polk  took  little  notice  of  anyone.  Occasionally  his 
eyes  rested  with  an  expression  of  profound  pity  on  the 
face  of  his  brother-in-law :  once  or  twice  he  pressed 
Magdalena's  hand ;  but  his  attention  chiefly  centred 
on  the  door,  although  he  knew  that  his  wife  could  not 
arrive  until  after  midnight. 

Magdalena  went  to  the  train  to  meet  her  aunt.  It 
was  still  raining,  but  calmly.  There  was  no  gay  and 
chattering  crowd  in  Market  Street,  not  even  the  light 
of  a  cable  car  flashing  through  the  grey  drizzle.  Mag 
dalena  recalled  the  night  of  the  fire.  Her  inner  life 
had  undergone  many  upheavals  since  that  night ;  even 
her  feeling  for  Helena  was  changed.  And  her  aunt 
was  a  mere  memory. 

At  the  station  she  left  the  carriage  and  walked 
along  the  platform  as  the  train  drew  in.  Mrs.  Polk, 
assisted  by  a  Mexican  maid,  descended  from  the  car. 
She  was  very  stout,  but,  as  she  approached  Magdalena, 


The  Californians  303 

it  was  evident  that  her  carriage  had  lost  nothing  of 
majesty  or  grace.  She  kissed  her  niece  warmly. 

"  So  good  you  are  to  come  for  me,  mijita.  And 
when  rain,  too  —  so  horriblee  San  Francisco.  Never 
I  want  to  see  again.  And  the  uncle?  how  he  is?" 

"  He  says  he  will  live  until  you  come ;  but  he  won't 
live  long  after." 

"  Poor  man  !  I  am  sorry  he  go  so  soon.  But  all 
the  mens  die  early  in  California  now :  work  so  hard. 
Live  very  old  before  the  Americanos  coming." 

They  could  talk  without  restraint  in  the  carriage,  for 
the  maid  did  not  speak  English ;  but  Mrs.  Polk  merely 
asked  how  her  husband  had  caught  cold.  Her  fair 
placid  face  and  sleepy  eyes  showed  no  print  of  the 
years.  She  seemed  glad  to  see  Magdale"na  again. 

"  Often  I  wish  have  you  with  me  in  Santa  Barbara," 
she  said.  "  But  Roberto  is  what  the  Americanos  call 
'  crank.'  No  is  use  asking  him.  Santa  Barbara  no  is 
like  in  the  old  time,  but  is  nice  sleep  place,  where  no 
have  the  neuralgia,  and  nothing  to  bother.  Then 
always  I  have  the  few  old  families  that  are  left,  and 
we  are  so  friends,  —  see  each  other  every  day,  and  eat 
the  Spanish  dishes.  I  no  know  any  Americanos; 
always  I  hating  them.  So  thin  you  are,  mijita ;  I  wish 
I  can  take  you  back." 

But  Magdale"na  felt  no  desire  to  go  with  her;  her 
aunt  seemed  to  belong  to  another  life. 

When  they  reached  home,  Mrs.  Polk  went  to  Mrs. 
Yorba's  room  to  remove  her  wraps  and  drink  a  cup  of 
chocolate.  She  smoothed  her  beautiful  dusky  hair  and 


304  The  Californlans 

arranged  the  old-fashioned  lace  about  her  throat,  then 
sailed  in  all  her  languid  majesty  across  the  hall. 

"  Aunt,"  said  Magdal6na,  with  her  hand  on  the  door 
of  the  sick  room,  "  will  —  will  —  you  kiss  uncle  ?  " 

Mrs.  Polk  raised  her  eyebrows.  "  Why,  yes,  si  he 
wanting;  but  I  never  kiss  him  in  my  life.  Why  now?" 

"  He  is  dying,  and  he  has  wanted  you  more  than 
anything." 

"  So  queer  fancies  the  seeck  people  have.  But  I  kiss 
him,  of  course." 

As  she  entered  the  room,  Mr.  Polk  raised  himself 
slightly  and  stared  at  her  with  an  expression  she  had 
never  seen  in  his  young  eyes.  It  thrilled  her  nerves 
within  their  mausoleum  of  flesh.  She  bent  over  and 
kissed  him.  "  Poor  Eeram  !  "  she  said.  "  So  sorry 
I  am.  But  you  no  suffer,  no?" 

He  made  no  reply.  He  sank  back  to  his  pillows ; 
and  after  greeting  her  brother,  she  took  a  chair  beside 
the  bed  and  sat  there  until  her  husband  died,  in  the 
ebb  of  the  night.  He  held  her  hand,  his  eyes  never 
leaving  her  beautiful  face,  never  losing  their  hunger 
until  the  film  covered  them.  What  thoughts,  what 
bitter  regrets,  what  futile  desires  for  another  beginning 
may  have  moved  sluggishly  in  that  disintegrating  brain, 
he  carried  with  him  into  the  magnificent  vault  which 
his  widow  erected  on  Lone  Mountain. 

His  will  was  read  on  the  day  following  the  funeral, 
in  the  parlour  where  his  coffin  had  rested,  and  by  the 
light  of  a  solitary  gas-jet.  Magdalena  had  never  heard 
a  will  read  before :  she  hoped  she  might  never  hear 


The  Californians  305 

another.  The  three  women  in  their  black  gowns,  the 
four  executors  and  trustees  in  their  crow-black  funeral 
clothes,  — her  father,  Colonel  Belmont,  Mr.  Washington, 
and  Mr.  Geary,  —  the  big  rustling  document  with  its 
wearisome  formalities,  —  made  a  more  lugubrious  pic 
ture  than  the  lonely  coffin  of  the  day  before.  The 
terms  of  the  will  were  simple  enough  :  the  interest  of 
the  vast  fortune  was  left  to  Mrs.  Polk ;  upon  her  death 
it  was  to  be  divided  between  his  sister  and  niece,  the 
principal  to  go  to  Magdale"na  upon  Mrs.  Yorba's  death. 
When  Mr.  Washington  finished  reading  the  document, 
Don  Roberto  spoke  for  the  first  time  in  four  days. 

"  I  go  to  resign.  I  no  will  be  executor  or  trustee. 
No  need  me,  anyhow."  And  he  would  listen  to  no 
argument. 

The  next  day  he  called  a  meeting  of  the  bank's 
board  of  directors  and  resigned  the  presidency,  re 
questing  that  Mr.  Geary,  a  cautious  and  solid  man, 
should  succeed  him.  His  wish  was  gratified,  and  he 
walked  out  of  the  bank,  never  to  enter  it  again.  His 
many  other  interests  were  in  the  hands  of  trustworthy 
agents :  neither  he  nor  his  brother-in-law  had  ever 
made  a  mistake  in  their  choice  of  servants.  When 
he  reached  home,  he  wrote  to  each  of  these  agents 
demanding  monthly  instead  of  quarterly  accounts.  He 
had  a  bed  brought  down  to  a  small  room  adjoining 
the  "  office,"  and  in  these  two  rooms  he  announced 
his  intention  to  live  henceforth.  At  the  same  time 
he  informed  his  wife  and  daughter  that  their  allowance 
hereafter  would  be  one  hundred  dollars  a  year  each, 


306  The  Californians 

and  that  he  would  pay  no  bills.  Ah  Kee,  who  had 
lived  with  him  for  twenty  years,  would  attend  to  the 
domestic  supplies.  Then  he  ordered  his  meals  brought 
to  the  office,  and  shut  himself  up. 

On  the  third  day  Mrs.  Polk  said  to  Magdatena,  — 

"  Si  I  stay  in  this  house  one  day  more,  I  go  mad, 
no  less.  Is  like  the  dungeons  in  the  Mission.  Madre 
di  Dios  !  and  you  living  like  this  for  years,  perhaps ; 
for  Roberto  grow  more  crank  all  the  time.  Come 
with  me.  I  no  think  he  know." 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  he  knows  everything.  And 
I  cannot  leave  them.  Shall  you  go  back  to  Santa 
Barbara?  Don't  you  want  to  travel?" 

"  Dios  de  mi  alma  ;  no  !  I  think  I  go  to  die  on 
that  treep  from  Santa  Barbara  —  so  jolt.  I  am  too 
old  to  travel.  Once  I  think  I  like  see  Spain;  but 
now  I  only  want  be  comfortable.  Well,  si  you  change 
the  mind  and  come  sometime,  I  am  delight.  But  I 
go  now :  feel  like  I  am  old  flower  wither  up,  without 
the  sun." 


XXVI 

MRS.  FOLK'S  large  white  face  and  throat  had  seemed 
to  shed  a  measure  of  light  in  the  dark  house  ;  when 
she  left,  the  gloom  seemed  to  get  down  and  sit  on  one. 
Helena  refused  to  enter  by  the  front  door,  and  lament 
ing  that  she  was  too  big  to  climb  the  pillar,  paid  her 
visits  by  way  of  the  kitchen  and  back  stairs. 


The  Californians  307 

After  the  calls  of  condolence  visitors  came  more 
and  more  rarely  to  the  Yorba  house.  They  said  it  de 
pressed  them  for  days  after,  and  that  while  there  they 
sat  in  mortal  terror  of  hearing  Don  Roberto  burst 
out  of  his  den  with  the  yell  of  a  maniac.  And  as 
for  dear  Mrs.  Yorba  and  Magdatena,  they  never  had 
had  much  to  say,  but  now  they  had  nothing.  They 
would  not  drop  off  altogether,  for  the  old  don  was 
bound  to  follow  his  brother-in-law  in  course  of  time, 
and  then  his  widow  would  once  more  be  a  useful 
member  of  society.  Mrs.  Montgomery,  Mrs.  Geary, 
and  Mrs.  Cartright  were  more  faithful  than  the  others, 
but  the  affections  Mrs.  Yorba  had  inspired  during  her 
long  and  distinguished  sojourn  in  San  Francisco  were 
not  very  deep  and  warm. 

The  girls  were  sorry  for  Magdal^na,  and  called  fre 
quently,  conquering  their  horror  of  the  gloomy  echoing 
house ;  but  they  had  less  to  endure  than  their  elders, 
for  they  were  received  in  Magdalena's  own  sitting- 
room,  which,  although  sparsely  and  tastelessly  fur 
nished,  was  always  as  cheerful  as  the  weather  would 
permit.  They  brought  her  all  the  gossip  of  the  out 
side  world,  discussed  the  new  novels  with  her,  and 
occasionally  induced  her  to  spend  a  day  with  them. 

At  the  end  of  the  winter  Ila  was  married ;  very 
grandly,  in  Grace  Church.  All  her  friends  but  Mag- 
dalena  were  bridesmaids.  The  omission  was  a  serious 
one,  and  all  felt  that  it  robbed  the  function  of  a.  last 
fine  finish :  each  of  the  girls  had  counted  upon  having 
the  last  of  the  Yorbas  for  chief  bridesmaid.  Magdale"na 


308  The  Californians 

went  and  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  church  and  saw  the  first 
of  her  friends  break  the  circle  of  their  girlhood.  Her 
present  had  been  very  meagre  :  it  had  come  out  of 
her  monthly  allowance.  Mrs.  Polk  was  much  too 
indolent  to  consider  whether  her  niece  was  allowed 
an  income  suitable  for  her  position  or  not,  and  Mag- 
dale"na  was  much  too  proud  to  ask  favours.  She 
slipped  out  of  the  church  just  before  the  end  of  the 
ceremony,  feeling  like  a  poor  relation. 

She  rarely  saw  her  father.  Occasionally  she  met 
him  in  the  hall ;  he  drifted  past  her  like  a  ghost.  Mr. 
Polk  died  in  February.  On  the  first  of  June  Don 
Roberto  had  not  been  out  of  the  house  for  three 
months,  nor  had  he  exchanged  a  word  with  his  wife 
or  daughter. 

"  He  '11  blink  like  an  owl  when  he  does  go  out,"  said 
Mrs.  Yorba.  "  I  wonder  if  he  remembers  that  it  is 
time  to  go  to  the  country?" 

"  He  never  forgets  anything.  I  '11  pack  his  things  if 
you  like." 

But  the  day  passed  and  the  next,  and  Don  Roberto 
gave  no  sign  of  remembering  that  it  was  time  to  move. 
Then  Mrs.  Yorba  drew  several  long  breaths,  went  down 
stairs,  and  knocked  at  his  door.  There  was  no  re 
sponse,  but  she  turned  the  knob  and  went  in.  Don 
Roberto's  face  was  between  the  large  pages  of  a  ledger. 
He  looked  round  with  a  scowl. 

"  Everything  is  ready  to  move  down.  Are  you  not 
coming?  " 

"  No ;  and  you  no  going  either.     Letting  the  place." 


The  Californians  309 

If  the  President  of  the  United  States  had  let  the 
White  House,  Mrs.  Yorba  could  not  have  been  more 
astounded. 

"  Let  Fair  Oaks  !     Fair  Oaks?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  where  are  we  to  go  this  summer?" 

"We  stay  here." 

"  Robert !  You  cannot  mean  that.  No  one  stays 
here  in  summer.  The  city  is  impossible  —  those  trade- 
winds —  those  fogs — " 

"  Need  not  go  out.  Can  stay  in  the  house."  And 
Don  Roberto  returned  to  his  ledger. 

Mrs.  Yorba  went  straight  to  Magdal£na's  room,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  her  daughter's  experience  of  her, 
wept. 

"  To  think  of  spending  a  summer  in  San  Francisco  ! 
How  I  have  looked  forward  to  the  summer!  Things 
are  always  bright  and  cheerful  in  Menlo  even  with  the 
house  shut  up,  for  one  can  sit  on  the  verandah.  But 
here  !  And  not  a  soul  in  town  !  And  the  house  like 
a  prison  !  What  in  Heaven's  name  ails  your  father? 
He  's  not  crazy.  He  's  reading  his  ledgers,  and  what 
he  says  is  to  the  point,  goodness  knows  !  But  I  shall 
follow  Hiram  if  this  keeps  up.  You  're  a  real  comfort 
to  me,  'Le'na.  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  without 
you." 

Magdatena  said  what  she  could  to  console  her 
mother.  The  two  had  drawn  together  during  these 
trying  months.  She  was  bitterly  disappointed  that  she 
could  not  go  to  Menlo  Park.  She  was  tired  of  its 


310  The  Californians 

efforts  to  amuse  itself,  but  she  could  live  in  its  woods, 
its  soft  gracious  air,  find  companionship  in  the  distant 
redwoods  swimming  in  their  dark-blue  mists. 

The  girls  all  invited  her  to  visit  them,  but  she  would 
not  leave  her  mother,  even  could  her  father's  con 
sent  be  obtained.  Mrs.  Yorba  was  genuinely  unhappy. 
Without  mental  resources,  and  deprived  of  even  an 
occasional  hour  with  her  friends,  she  was  further  har 
assed  by  the  fear  that  her  husband  would  die  and 
leave  her  with  a  pittance  :  he  certainly  appeared  to 
hate  the  sight  of  his  family.  It  consoled  her  somewhat 
to  reflect  that  wills  were  easily  broken  in  California. 
Why  had  her  brother  left  her  nothing?  With  a  full 
purse  she  could  at  least  have  the  distractions  of  phi 
lanthropy.  She  took  to  novel-reading  with  a  voracious 
appetite,  and  her  taste  grew  so  exacting  that  she  would 
have  nothing  that  was  not  magnificently  sensational. 
She  thought  on  Boston  with  a  shudder,  but  concluded 
that  it  was  enough  to  have  been  intellectual  when 
young. 

Magdatena  plodded  on  with  her  work.  She  de 
scribed  the  customs  and  manners  of  the  old  times  with 
much  accuracy,  and  felt  that  her  beloved  creations 
were  rather  more  than  puppets ;  and  it  was  as  much 
for  their  sake  as  for  her  own  that  she  wanted  these  little 
histories  to  be  triumphs  of  art,  that  they  might  arrest 
the  attention  of  the  world.  Alvarado  and  Castro  were 
great  heroes  to  her :  it  was  unjust  and  cruel  that  the 
big  world  outside  of  California  should  know  nothing 
of  them;  to  the  present  Californian,  for  that  matter, 


The  Californians  311 

they  were  not  even  names.  And  forty  years  before  the 
Californias  had  bent  to  their  nod  !  They  had  lived 
with  the  state  of  princes,  and  the  wisdom  with  which 
the  one  had  ruled  and  the  other  had  managed  his 
armies  would  have  given  them  lasting  fame  had  not 
their  country  then  been  as  remote  from  Earth's  greater 
civilisations  as  had  it  been  on  Jupiter.  If  she  could 
only  immortalise  them  !  That  would  be  a  sufficient 
reason  for  living,  compensate  her  for  the  wreck  of  her 
personal  life.  It  might  take  a  lifetime,  but  what  of 
that  if  she  succeeded  in  the  end? 

She  took  long  walks  daily ;  alone,  for  the  French 
maid  had  been  dismissed  long  since.  The  walks  were 
not  pleasant,  for  when  the  sand  from  the  outlying  dunes 
was  not  swept  through  the  city  by  the  bitter  trades, 
the  fog  was  crawling  into  one's  very  marrow.  And  the 
hills  were  steep.  Sometimes  she  took  the  cable  cai 
to  the  end  of  the  line,  then  walked  to  the  Presidio  ; 
but  that  brought  the  sand-hills  nearer,  and  she  went 
home  with  smarting  eyes.  Protected  by  her  window, 
she  found  beauty  even  in  the  summer  mood  of  San 
Francisco ;  and  sometimes  she  went  up  into  the  tower 
of  the  Belmont  house  and  watched  the  long  clouds  of 
dust  roll  symmetrically  down  the  streets  of  the  city's 
valleys ;  or  the  delicate  white  mist  ride  through  the 
Golden  Gate  to  wreathe  itself  about  the  cross  on  Cal 
vary,  then  creep  down  the  bare  brown  cone  to  press 
close  about  the  tombs  on  Lone  Mountain ;  then  onward 
until  all  the  city  was  gone  under  a  white  swinging 
ocean ;  except  the  points  of  the  hills  disfigured  with  the 


312  The  Californians 

excrescences  of  the  rich.  Into  the  canons  and  rifts  of 
the  hills  beyond  the  blue  bay  the  fog  crept  daintily  at 
first,  hanging  in  festoons  so  light  that  the  very  trades 
held  aloof,  then  advancing  with  a  rush,  —  a  phantom 
of  the  booming  ocean  whence  it  came. 

And  Trennahan?  He  made  no  sign.  Whether  he 
were  dead  or  alive,  the  victim  or  the  captor  of  his  old 
familiars,  careless,  or  nursing  an  open  wound,  Mag- 
dalena  was  miserably  ignorant.  The  time  had  come 
when  she  waited  tensely  as  mails  were  due,  feeling  that 
an  empty  envelope  covered  with  his  handwriting  would 
give  her  solace.  She  cherished  no  hope  that  he  would 
ever  return  to  her,  but  he  had  promised  her  his  lasting 
friendship.  Sometimes  she  wondered  at  the  cruelty  of 
men.  Why  should  he  not  help  her?  Even  if  he  really 
believed  in  the  extinction  of  her  love,  he  might  guess 
that  she  needed  his  friendship.  She  had  yet  to  learn 
that  the  one  thing  that  man  never  gives  to  woman  is 
spiritual  help. 

Helena  wrote  that  her  father  was  so  anxious  for  her 
to  marry  Alan  Rush  that  she  was  officially  engaged  to 
that  much-enduring  youth  and  really  liked  him.  Menlo 
Park  was  the  same  as  ever ;  not  so  gay  as  last  year, 
but  the  same  in  quality.  No  one  had  called  on  the 
lessees  of  Fair  Oaks.  They  were  new  people  whom 
nobody  knew,  and  it  would  be  horrid  to  go  there,  any 
how.  Caro  was  engaged  to  marry  an  Englishman  who 
had  bought  a  grape-ranch  some  twenty  miles  from 
Menlo.  Tiny  was  prettier  and  more  bored  than  usual. 
Rose  wrote  that  she  certainly  could  not  stand  another 


The  Californians  313 

summer  of  Menlo  and  should  go  East  in  the  autumn. 
Ila  wrote  from  Paris,  London,  and  Homburg  that  life 
was  quite  perfect.  It  was  so  interesting  to  be  named 
Washington,  —  everybody  stared  so  ;  as  the  English  had 
never  read  a  line  of  United  States  history,  they  thought 
her  George  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  immortal 
head  of  his  house ;  and  she  had  thirty-two  trunks  of 
Paris  clothes  and  ever  so  many  men  in  love  with  her. 
And  Magdalena  lived  this  life  for  three  years.  Its 
monotony  was  broken  by  one  event  only. 


XXVII 

DURING  the  winter  following  Mr.  Folk's  death,  Colonel 
Belmont  was  driving  his  coach  along  the  beach  beyond 
the  Park  one  afternoon  when  Helena,  who  sat  beside 
him,  saw  him  give  a  long  shudder,  then  huddle.  She 
grasped  the  reins  of  the  four  swiftly  trotting  horses  and 
spoke  over  her  shoulder  to  Alan  Rush. 

"  Pull  my  father  up  to  the  top,"  she  said. 

Rush  did  as  he  was  bid,  and  the  body  of  Colonel 
Belmont  was  laid  out  between  the  two  rows  of  young 
people,  whose  gaiety  had  frozen  to  horror. 

"  Now  take  the  reins,"  said  Helena. 

Rush  took  the  reins.  Helena  followed  her  father 
swiftly  and  stooped  to  take  his  head  in  her  arms.  But 
she  dropped  her  ear  to  his  lips  instead,  then  to  his 
heart.  For  a  moment  longer  she  stared  at  him,  while 
the  others  waited  for  the  outburst.  But  she  returned 


314  The  Californians 

to  the  front  seat,  and  caught  the  reins  from  Rush's 
hands. 

"  I  must  do  something,"  she  said ;  and  he  knew 
better  than  to  answer  her,  or  even  to  look  at  her. 

It  was  some  time  before  she  could  turn  the  horses, 
and  then  she  was  several  miles  from  home.  She  drove 
with  steady  hands ;  but  when  they  had  reached  the 
house  and  Rush  lifted  her  down,  she  was  trembling 
violently.  She  pushed  him  aside. 

"  Go  and  get  Magdatena,"  she  said. 

Magdatena  remained  with  her  a  week.  This  was 
Helena's  first  real  grief,  and  there  was  nothing  cyclonic 
about  it.  "  I  "11  never  get  over  it,"  she  said.  "  Never  ! 
And  I  '11  never  be  quite  the  same  again.  Of  course 
I  don't  mean  that  I  '11  have  this  awful  sense  of  be 
reavement  and  keep  on  crying  all  my  life  :  I  know 
better  than  that;  but  I  could  never  forget  him,  nor 
forget  to  wish  I  still  had  him,  if  I  lived  to  be  a  hun 
dred.  If  I  had  anything  to  reproach  myself  for  — 
anything  serious  —  I  believe  I  'd  go  off  my  head  ;  but 
I  was  good  to  him ;  and  I  am  sure  mamma  never  could 
have  taken  better  care  of  him  than  I  did.  When  he 
was  under  doctor's  orders  I  gave  him  every  drop  of  the 
medicine  myself,  and  I  never  would  let  him  eat  a  thing 
I  thought  would  n't  agree  with  him.  He  used  to  say 
his  life  was  a  burden,  poor  darling,  but  I  know  he  liked 
it.  And  who  knows? — if  I  hadn't  watched  him  so, 
he  might  not  have  lived  as  long  as  he  did.  That  is  my 
one  consolation.  .  .  .  This  terrible  grief  makes  every 
thing  else  seem  so  paltry ;  I  could  not  even  think  of 


The  Californians 


315 


being  engaged  to  Alan  Rush  any  longer.  Poor  fellow  ! 
I  feel  sorry  for  him,  but  I  can't  play  for  a  long  time  to 
come.  As  for  papa's  wishes  in  the  matter,  Mr.  Geary 
and  Mr.  Washington  will  take  care  of  my  money,  and 
I  am  quite  able  to  take  care  of  myself.  If  papa  is 
near  me  now,  he  will  understand  how  I  feel,  and  agree 
with  me.  I  wish  I  had  some  heroic  destiny.  Why 
has  the  United  States  ceased  to  make  history?  I'd 
like  to  play  some  great  part.  Papa  used  to  say  there 
was  bound  to  be  another  upheaval  some  day,  but  I  "m 
afraid  it  won't  be  in  my  time." 

"  It  may,"  replied  Magdalena.  "  There  's  a  good 
deal  of  history-making,  quiet  and  noisy,  going  on  all 
the  time.  I  've  been  reading  the  newspapers  this  last 
year.  They  're  horrid  sensational  things,  but  I  manage 
to  get  a  few  ideas  from  them.  No  one  can  tell  what 
may  happen  ten  years  hence.  You  may  have  a  chance 
to  be  the  heroine  of  a  revolution  yet." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  '11  never  be  anything  but  a  belle,  and 
I  'm  tired  of  that  already,  although  I  never  could 
stand  being  shelved.  But  if  there  is  a  revolution  dur 
ing  my  life  I  '11  be  a  factor  in  it.  Just  you  remember 
that." 

"  I  really  do  believe  that  you  were  intended  for  some 
thing  extraordinary." 

"  I  believe  I  was.  That 's  the  reason  I  'm  so  restless 
and  dramatic.  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  ever  could  be  so 
again,  though,  —  not  for  ages,  anyhow." 

The  old  close  and  affectionate  intimacy  between  the 
two  girls  was  restored  during  that  week.  At  its  end 


316  The  Californians 

Helena  went  East  to  visit  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Forbes.  She 
was  the  untrammelled  mistress  of  something  under  a  mil 
lion  dollars ;  and  as  her  private  car,  filled  with  flowers, 
bonbons,  and  books,  pulled  away  from  a  sorrowing 
crowd  of  friends  on  the  Oakland  side  of  the  ferry, 
it  must  be  confessed  she  reflected  that  the  future  would 
appear  several  shades  darker  if  she  were  arranging  her 
belongings  in  a  half-section,  a  small  quarterly  allow 
ance  in  her  pocket.  Nevertheless  Colonel  Belmont 
had  his  reward.  His  daughter's  grief  was  deep  and 
lasting ;  and  perhaps  he  knew. 


XXVIII 

CARO  married  her  Englishman,  and  on  a  thriving  grape- 
farm  entertained  other  Englishmen.  Rose  went  East 
and  triumphantly  captured  a  Baltimorean  of  distin 
guished  lineage  and  depleted  exchequer.  Tiny  went 
to  Europe  again.  Magdale"na  was  practically  alone. 
Her  father  still  lived  in  his  two  rooms  downstairs  and 
never  spoke  to  anyone  but  Ah  Kee.  Once  he  forgot 
to  close  his  study  door,  and  Magdale"na,  who  happened 
to  be  passing,  paused  and  looked  at  him.  His  face 
had  shrunken  and  was  crossed  with  a  thousand  fine 
and  eccentric  lines ;  like  the  palm  of  a  man  singled 
out  for  a  career  of  trouble.  He  had  let  his  hair  and 
beard  grow,  and  he  looked  uncouth  and  dirty. 

Mrs.  Yorba  still  read  novels.     She  no  longer  paid 
calls,  for  her  allowance,  now  reduced  to  fifty  dollars  a 


The  Californians  317 

year,  was  quite  inadequate  to  meet  the  requirements  of 
a  dignified  member  of  society.  She  received  her  few 
intimate  and  faithful  friends  in  her  bedroom  ;  the  first 
floor  was  never  dusted  nor  aired.  The  house  smelt 
musty  and  deserted ;  the  lower  rooms  were  as  cold  and 
damp  as  underground  caverns ;  the  spiders  spun  un 
heeded  ;  when  the  front  door  was  opened,  the  festoons 
in  the  hall  swung  like  hammocks.  Even  the  gloom  of 
the  house  seemed  to  accentuate  with  the  years.  Mag- 
dale"na  wondered  if  the  inside  of  the  old  Polk  house 
looked  any  more  haunted  than  this ;  and  even  the  Bel- 
mont  house  was  acquiring  an  expression  of  pathos, 
peculiar  to  desertion  in  old  age.  Magdalena  fancied 
that  the  three  houses  must  be  pointed  out  to  visitors  as 
the  sarcophagi  of  the  futile  ambitions  of  three  Califor- 
nian  millionaires. 

In  her  own  rooms  she  toiled  on,  absorbed  in  her 
work,  loving  it  with  the  beggared  passion  of  her  nature, 
experiencing  two  or  three  moments  of  creative  ecstasy 
and  many  hours  of  dull  discouragement.  She  wrote  her 
stories  and  rewrote  them  ;  then  again,  and  again.  Her 
critical  faculty  took  long  strides  ahead  of  her  creative 
power,  and  she  rarely  ceased  to  be  uneasy  at  the  dis 
parity  between  her  work  and  her  ideals.  But  Trennahan 
had  said  that  it  would  be  ten  years  before  she  could 
attain  excellence,  and  she  was  willing  to  serve  a  harder 
apprenticeship  than  this.  Had  it  not  been  for  her 
work  and  the  books  of  those  who  had  climbed  the 
heights  and  slept  beneath  the  stars,  she  might  have 
become  morbid  and  melancholy  in  her  unnatural  sur- 


318  The  Californians 

roundings.  But  although  the  monotony  of  her  life  was 
never  broken  by  a  day  in  the  country,  she  had  always 
the  beauty  of  bay  and  hill  and  sky  beyond  her  window ; 
and  there  are  certain  months  in  the  spring  and  autumn 
when  San  Francisco  is  as  lovely  and  brilliant  as  the 
southern  shores  of  California.  The  trades  are  hiber 
nating  in  the  caves  of  the  Pacific,  and  the  fogs  exist 
only  in  the  spray  of  the  ponderous  waves.  On  such 
days  and  evenings  Magdatena  sat  for  hours  on  her  little 
balcony,  forgetting  her  work,  dreaming  idly.  It  was 
inevitable,  in  her  purely  mental  and  imaginative  life, 
that  she  should  apprehend  in  Trennahan  the  lover 
again.  She  wove  her  own  romance  as  ardently  and 
consecutively  as  that  of  any  of  her  heroines.  In  time 
he  would  forget  Helena ;  his  love  for  her  had  been  one 
of  those  sudden  insane  passions  of  which  she  had  read, 
—  which  she  tried  to  depict  in  her  Southland  tales,  — 
and  in  time  it  would  fall  from  him,  and  he  would  hear 
the  tinkle  of  the  chain  forged  in  long  hours  of  perfect 
sympathy.  They  would  both  be  older  and  wiser  and 
more  sad  :  the  better,  perhaps.  Loneliness  and  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  her  life  inclined  her  to  border 
land  sympathies ;  she  believed  that  if  he  died  suddenly 
she  should  become  immediately  aware  of  the  fact. 

Her  love  for  Trennahan  by  no  means  interfered  with 
her  literary  ambitions.  All  others  had  failed  her ;  she 
knew  now  that  with  the  best  of  opportunities  she  should 
never  have  cut  a  brilliant  figure  in  society.  But  she  did 
not  care  ;  letters  were  a  far  more  glorious  goal.  Helena 
adored  great  military  heroes,  great  imperialists  like  Clive 


The  Californians  319 

and  Hastings,  even  great  tyrants  like  Napoleon.  Her 
self  reverenced  the  great  names  in  literature,  and  could 
think  of  no  destiny  so  exalted  as  to  be  enrolled  among 
them.  And  if  she  succeeded,  what  would  have  mat 
tered  these  long  years  of  dull  loneliness,  of  denial  of 
all  that  is  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  girl?  Sometimes  she 
even  thought  the  tarrying  of  Trennahan  mattered  little  ; 
for  there  is  no  tyrant  so  jealous  as  Art. 

Once  she  read  her  stones  aloud  to  her  mother ;  and 
Mrs.  Yorba  was  pleased  to  observe  that  they  were  much 
better  than  she  could  have  expected,  but  that  on  the 
whole  she  preferred  "The  Duchess."  She  had  grown 
quite  fond  of  her  daughter,  and  often  sat  in  her  room 
while  she  wrote.  The  intimacy  and  isolation  of  the  two 
women  had  made  it  easy  and  natural  for  Magdal£na  to 
confide  in  her  mother,  but  she  was  forced  to  confess 
that  she  had  not  inherited  her  critical  faculty  from  her 
maternal  parent.  Nevertheless,  she  was  glad  of  the 
meagre  encouragement  and  plodded  on. 


XXIX 

IT  was  early  in  the  fourth  year  that  Henry  James 
swooped  down  upon  San  Francisco.  He  arrived  in 
the  train  of  Helena's  triumphant  return,  under  her 
especial  patronage.  Not  that  a  few  choice  spirits  in 
California  had  not  discovered  James  for  themselves 
long  since ;  but  James  as  a  definite  entity,  known  and 
approved  by  Society,  awaited  the  second  advent  of 


320  The  Californians 

Helena.  He  immediately  became  the  fad ;  rather, 
Society  split  into  two  factions  and  was  threatened  with 
disruption.  One  young  woman  of  the  disapproving 
camp  even  went  so  far  as  to  call  an  ardent  advocate  a 
"  Henry  James  fool."  All  of  which  was  doubtless  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  traditions  of  action  still  lingered  in 
California.  Strangely  enough,  Tiny,  who  returned  almost 
immediately  after  Helena,  was  one  of  the  first  to  take 
Mr.  James  under  her  small  but  determined  wing.  She 
regarded  well-read  people  as  an  unnecessary  bore,  and 
ambition  of  any  sort  as  unsuited  to  the  Land  of  the 
Poppy,  but  she  had  a  feminine  faith  in  exceptions,  and 
joined  the  cult  with  something  like  enthusiasm.  It 
was  she  who  introduced  him  to  Magdale'na. 

Magdale'na  cared  nothing  for  American  latter-day 
authors,  and  gave  no  heed  to  Helena's  emphatic  ap 
proval  of  Mr.  James.  In  fact,  she  and  Helena  had  so 
much  else  to  talk  about  that  they  found  little  leisure 
for  books.  Helena  had  been  abroad  again,  and  the 
belle  of  a  winter  in  Washington.  She  was  more  beauti 
ful  than  ever,  and,  although  somewhat  subdued,  was  full 
of  plans  for  the  future.  Her  first  ball  —  she  arrived  at 
the  end  of  the  winter  season  —  determined  that  her 
supremacy,  socially  and  sentimentally,  was  unshaken. 
Immediately  after,  she  bought  an  old  Spanish  house  in 
the  northern  redwoods  and  provided  new  surprises  for 
her  little  world.  But  there  is  no  more  room  for  Helena 
in  this  chronicle.  Perhaps,  if  history  shapes  itself  around 
her,  she  may  one  day  have  a  chronicle  to  herself. 

Tiny  called  on  Magdale'na  one  afternoon  with  two 


The  Californians  321 

volumes  of  Henry  James  under  her  arm.  She  took 
to  her  toes  as  the  front  door  closed,  and  ran  down  the 
long  hall  and  up  the  stair  to  Magdal6na's  room. 

"  I  feel  like  a  book  agent,"  she  said,  trying  not  to 
pant,  and  hoping  Magdale"na  would  go  down  to  the 
door  with  her  when  she  left.  "  But  you  really  must 
read  him,  'Le"na.  He  's  so  fascinating  :  I  think  it 's 
because  nothing  ever  happens,  and  that 's  so  like  life. 
I  think  I  must  always  have  felt  Henry  Jamesish,  and 
it  seems  to  me  that  he  is  singularly  like  Menlo,  — 
when  Helena  is  not  there,  —  just  jogging  along  in 
aristocratic  seclusion  punctuated  by  the  epigrams  of 
Rose  and  Eugene  Fort.  I  'm  sure  Mr.  James  could 
write  a  novel  of  Menlo  Park ;  he  just  revels  in  irradi 
ating  nothing  with  genius.  There  !  I  feel  so  guilty, 
for  I  really  do  love  Menlo,  —  with  intervals  of  Europe, 
—  but  I  Ve  been  visiting  Rose,  and  I  'm  afraid  I  'm 
plagiarising  a  little  ;  you  know  I  'm  not  one  bit  clever. 
Only  I  really  feel  so  when  I  read  Mr.  James.  And 
he  '11  be  such  company  in  Menlo  this  summer.  Just 
think,  I  shall  be  all  alone  there,  when  I  'm  not  visiting 
Helena  or  Caro.  Is  —  is  —  "  she  glanced  about  fear 
fully  — "  is  there  no  hope  of  dear  Don  Roberto 
relenting?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not.  But  it  is  such  a  comfort  to  have 
you  back.  I  heard  you  were  engaged  —  to  an  Eng 
lishman,  or  something?" 

Tiny  blushed.  She  was  on  her  way  to  a  tea,  and 
looked  exquisitely  pretty  in  a  fawn-coloured  crepe  de 
chine  embroidered  with  wild  roses,  and  a  bonnet  of 

21 


322  The  Californians 

pink  tulle  crushed  about  her  face.  Magdalena  won 
dered  why  some  man  had  not  married  her  out  of 
hand,  then  reflected  that  Tiny  was  likely  to  dispose 
of  her  own  future. 

"  I  'm  not  quite  sure,"  said  Miss  Montgomery,  look 
ing  innocently  at  a  lithograph  of  the  Virgin  which 
still  decorated  the  wall.  "  You  see,  he  has  a  title, 
and  it 's  so  commonplace  to  marry  a  title.  But  if  I 
decide  to,  I  '11  let  you  know  the  very  first." 

Shortly  after  she  went  away  —  and  left  Magdalena 
alone  with  Henry  James. 

She  took  up  one  of  the  volumes.  As  she  did  so, 
something  stirred  in  the  cellars  of  her  mind  —  beat 
its  stiff  wings  against  the  narrow  walls  —  struggled  for 
ward  and  upward. 

She  stood  on  the  porch  in  the  late  evening :  alone 
in  a  fog.  Her  young  mind  opened  to  literary  desire 
—  preceding  it  was  a  swift  disturbing  presentiment ;  it 
had  recurred  once,  and  again — but  not  for  several 
years.  What  did  it  mean,  here  again  ?  And  what  had 
Henry  James  to  do  with  it?  She  dropped  into  a  chair. 
Her  hands  trembled  as  they  opened  the  book. 


XXX 

IT  was  a  week  before  she  squarely  faced  the  rela 
tion  of  Henry  James  to  her  own  ambitions.  Then  she 
admitted  it  in  so  many  words :  she  could  not  write, 
she  never  could  write.  The  writers  who  were  dust 


The  Californians 


3*3 


had  inspired  her  to  emulation ;  it  took  a  great  con 
temporary  to  bring  her  despair.  It  is  only  the  living 
enemies  we  fear ;  the  dead  and  their  past  are  beautiful 
unrealities  to  the  smarting  ego. 

Magdale"na  realised  for  the  first  time  the  exact  value 
she  had  placed  upon  the  art  of  expression,  —  a  value 
that  was  in  inverse  ratio  to  her  limitations.  Literature 
to  her  was,  above  all  else,  the  art  of  words.  Stories 
were  to  be  picked  up  anywhere  :  had  she  not  found 
a  number  ready  to  her  hand?  The  creative  faculty 
might,  in  its  unique  development,  be  something 
supremer  still,  although  crippled  without  the  perfected 
medium  of  this  writer,  who  seemed  above  all  writers 
to  be  the  master  and  not  the  servant  of  words.  She 
re-read  her  own  efforts.  They  represented  the  hard 
thought  and  work  of  six  years ;  not  a  great  span, 
perhaps,  but  long  enough  to  determine  the  promise 
of  a  faculty.  The  stories  were  wooden.  Her  work 
would  always  be  wooden.  There  was  not  a  phrase 
to  delight  the  cultivated  reader,  not  a  line  that  any 
moderately  clever  person,  given  the  same  material, 
might  not  have  written.  After  as  many  more  years 
of  labour  she  might  become  a  praiseworthy  writer  of 
the  third  rank.  She  put  her  manuscripts  in  the  fire. 

After  that,  life  turned  grey  indeed.  Her  imagination 
might  have  gone  into  the  flames  with  the  stories,  for 
her  illusions  about  Trennahan  fell  to  ashes  coincidently. 
She  no  longer  believed  that  he  would  return,  that  he 
would  even  write  demanding  her  friendship.  She 
could  hardly  recall  his  face ;  the  sound  of  his  voice 


324  The  Californians 

was  gone  from  her.  Indubitably  he  had  forgotten  her 
long  since.  Why  not?  She  had  ascended  above  the 
rosy  stratum  of  youth,  where  delusions  were  possible. 

Then  began  a  long  struggle  against  despair  and  its 
terrible  consequences.  It  was  a  summer  of  raging 
trades  which  seemed  to  lift  the  sand  dunes  from  their 
foundations  and  hurl  them  through  the  choking  city. 
She  could  take  little  exercise.  The  Library  was  her 
only  resource,  but  one  can  read  only  so  many  hours  a 
day.  If  she  could  but  travel,  as  Helena  did,  when 
anything  went  wrong  !  Or  if  her  uncle  had  only  left 
her  an  income  that  she  could  expend  in  charity ! 
Her  sympathy  for  the  poor  had  never  ebbed,  and  she 
would  have  gladly  spent  her  life  in  their  service, 
although  she  doubted  if  they  were  more  miserable 
than  herself.  It  was  true  that  she  had  enough  to  eat, 
a  roof  to  her  head,  and  clothes  to  wear,  —  extremely 
plain  clothes ;  but  that  was  all.  A  nun  or  a  prisoner 
had  as  much. 

There  were  times  when  she  was  threatened  with  a 
consuming  hatred  of  life,  and  then  she  fled  out  into 
the  dust  and  battled  with  the  storms  within  and  with 
out  ;  for  her  ideals  were  all  that  were  left  her.  She 
knew  the  ugly  potentialities  in  the  depths  of  her  ill- 
compounded  nature  :  the  day  she  ceased  to  be  true 
to  herself  there  would  be  a  tragedy  in  that  dark  house 
on  the  hill.  Sometimes  she  wondered  toward  what 
end  she  was  persevering,  striving  to  perfect  the  better 
part  of  her.  A  quarter  of  a  century  or  more  of  mean 
ingless  earthly  existence  ?  A  controvertible  hereafter  ? 


The  Californians  325 

But  she  ceased  to  analyse,  knowing  that  it  could  lead 
nowhere  until  the  human  mind  ceased  to  be  human. 

And  one  day,  in  the  end  of  the  summer,  she  lost  her 
grip  on  herself. 

For  three  days  the  trade-winds  had  raged  ;  she  had 
not  been  able  to  leave  the  house.  Twice  she  had  set 
forth,  desperate  with  the  nervous  monotony  of  her 
hours,  and  been  driven  back  by  the  blinding  dust. 
It  was  on  the  third  day  that  she  happened  to  catch 
sight  of  herself  in  the  glass.  She  saw  her  face  plainer 
than  ever,  but  her  attention  passed  suddenly  to  her 
shoulders  and  rested  there.  They  were  bent.  Her 
carriage  was  dejected,  apathetic.  The  sluggish  tide 
mounted  slowly  to  her  face  as  she  realised  that  this 
physical  manner  must  have  fallen  upon  her  gradually, 
and  been  worn  for  some  time ;  and  its  significance. 
She  made  an  effort  to  reassume  her  old  erect  haughty 
poise,  which  had  been  partly  the  manifest  of  inherent 
pride,  partly  of  half-acknowledged  defiance  of  the 
beauty-worship  of  the  world.  Her  shoulders  sank 
before  the  spine  had  risen  to  its  perpendicular.  What 
did  it  matter?  Again  she  experienced  that  disinte 
gration  of  will  which  once  had  left  her  at  the  mercy 
of  that  instinct  for  destruction  which  is  one  of  the 
essential  particles  of  the  ego. 

Her  brain  was  almost  torpid.  The  want  of  exhila 
rating  exercise,  the  long  dearth  of  companionship,  the 
terrible  monotony  of  her  life,  the  restless  nights,  the 
dank  gloomy  atmosphere  in  which  she  had  her  per 
petual  being,  were,  she  told  herself  dully,  doing  theii 


326  The  Californians 

work.  And  she  did  not  care.  But  if  her  brain  was 
sodden,  her  nerves  felt  as  if  on  the  verge  of  explosion. 
She  noticed  that  her  hands  were  not  steady,  and  sat 
for  hours,  wondering  what  was  coming  upon  her.  She 
cared  less  and  less. 

Ah  Kee  tapped  at  her  door.  She  replied  that  she 
did  not  want  any  dinner,  loathing  the  unvarying  bill- 
of-fare. 

The  hours  dragged  on,  and  darkness  came ;  but 
she  did  not  light  the  gas,  whose  jet  was  but  a  feeble 
point  in  these  times,  hardly  worth  the  waste  of  a  match. 
She  strained  her  ears,  fancied  she  heard  whisperings  in 
the  hall  below.  If  San  Francisco's  skeletons  really  were 
down  there,  she  wished  they  would  go  in  and  throttle 
her  father.  He  was  the  author  of  all  her  misery ; 
and  was  any  woman  on  earth  so  miserable  as  she? 
Why  should  he  live,  exist  down  there  like  a  beast  in 
his  cave,  when  his  death  would  give  her  liberty  ?  —  a 
poignant  happiness  in  itself.  She  wondered  did  she 
kill  him  should  she  be  hanged  ?  They  rarely  hanged 
anybody  in  California,  never  when  there  was  gold  to 
rattle  contemptuously  in  the  face  of  the  law;  why 
should  she  not  deliver  her  mother  and  herself?  They 
would  both  be  in  an  asylum  for  the  mad,  or  dead 
before  their  time,  unless  he  went  soon ;  and  their  lives 
were  of  several  times  more  value  than  his.  They,  at 
least,  had  ruined  the  lives  of  no  one,  and  with  his 
hoarded  unsavoury  millions  they  would  gladly  do  good 
to  hundreds. 

She  tiptoed  out  into  the  hall,  and  leaned  over  the 


The  Californians  327 

circular  railing,  and  peered  down  into  the  space  below. 
Only  an  old-fashioned  waxen  taper  burned  in  a  cup 
of  oil ;  it  emitted  a  feeble  and  ghostly  light.  The 
large  webs  of  the  spiders  quivered  in  a  draught.  They 
assumed  strange  distorted  shapes  and  seemed  to  point 
long  fingers  at  her  father's  door. 

They  are  the  ghosts  that  once  animated  the  skele 
tons,  she  thought ;  and  they  think  it  time  he  joined 
them. 

She  stood  there  for  a  long  while,  her  eyes  narrowed 
in  a  hard  searching  regard ;  the  trembling  gloom  with 
the  tiny  sallow  flame  in  its  middle  suggested  the  pur 
gatory  of  imaginative  artists.  Should  she  go  down  and 
thrust  the  dagger  into  his  neck? 

Her  thoughts  were  torn  apart  by  the  abrupt  loud 
shouts  of  the  wind.  She  wondered  if  there  were  such 
winds  anywhere  else  on  earth,  or  if  this  were  the  voice 
of  some  fiend  prisoned  in  the  Pacific,  —  the  spouse 
whom  California  had  taken  to  her  arms  when  the  fires 
in  her  body  were  hewing  and  shattering  and  rehewing 
her,  and  divorced  in  an  after-desire  for  beauty  and 
peace. 

Magdale"na  went  back  to  her  room  and  turned  the 
key  in  the  drawer  which  contained  the  dagger. 

"  I  must  get  out  of  this  house,"  she  said  aloud,  with 
the  sensation  of  dragging  her  will  from  the  depths  of 
her  brain  and  shaking  it  back  to  life.  "  If  I  don't, 
I  '11  be  in  an  asylum  to-morrow.  Something  is  cer 
tainly  wrong  in  my  head." 

She  put  on  her  jacket  and  hat  with  trembling  fingers. 


328  The  Californians 

Her  nerves  seemed  fighting  their  way  through  her  skin. 
Her  ears  were  humming.  Something  had  begun  to 
pound  in  her  brain. 

She  ran  downstairs  and  let  herself  out,  averting 
her  eyes  from  her  father's  door.  Her  fingers  were 
rigid,  and  curved. 

As  she  reached  the  sidewalk,  a  squall  caught  and 
nearly  carried  her  off  her  feet.  It  bellied  her  skirts 
and  loosened  her  hair.  She  lost  her  breath  and  re 
gained  it  with  difficulty ;  she  could  hardly  steer  her 
self.  But  the  wind  filled  her  with  a  sudden  wild 
exaltation,  not  of  the  soul,  but  of  the  worst  of  her 
passions,  —  those  tangled,  fighting,  sternly  governed 
passions  of  the  cross-breed. 

She  cursed  aloud.  She  let  fly  all  the  maledictions, 
English  and  Spanish,  of  which  she  had  knowledge. 
The  street  was  deserted.  She  raised  her  voice  and 
pierced  the  gale,  the  furious  energy  of  her  words  hiss 
ing  like  escaping  steam.  She  raised  her  voice  still 
higher  and  shrieked  her  profane  arraignment  of  all 
things  mundane  in  a  final  ecstasy  of  nervous  abandon 
ment. 

When  the  passion  and  its  voice  were  exhausted,  her 
obsession  had  passed.  Her  head  felt  lighter,  the 
danger  of  congestion  was  over ;  but  her  protest  was 
the  keener  and  bitterer.  Her  father's  life  was  safe 
in  her  hands,  but  she  had  no  desire  to  return  to  his 
house.  She  determined  to  walk  until  morning,  and  to 
drift,  rudderless,  in  the  great  sea  of  the  night. 

She  caught  her  skirts  close  to  her  body  and  walked 


The  Californians  329 

rapidly  to  the  brow  of  the  hill.  The  twinkling  lights 
were  all  below.  The  wrack  of  cloud  torn  by  the  wind 
into  a  thousand  flapping  sails  skurried  across  a  sky 
which  the  hidden  moon  patched  with  a  hard  angry 
silver.  Far  away  and  high  in  the  storm  the  great 
cross  on  Calvary  seemed  dancing  an  inebriated  jig 
above  the  ghostly  tombs  of  Lone  Mountain. 

Magdale'na  walked  rapidly  down  the  hill.  Once  or 
twice  she  paused  before  a  house  and  stared  at  it. 
What  secrets  did  it  hold?  What  skeletons?  Were 
any  within  so  desperate  as  she  ?  Why  did  they  not 
come  out  and  shriek  with  the  storm?  She  pictured 
a  sudden  obsession  of  San  Francisco  :  every  door  si 
multaneously  flung  open,  every  wretched  inmate  rushing 
forth  to  scream  his  protest  against  the  injustice  of  life 
into  the  ecstatic  fury  of  the  elements. 

High  on  a  terrace,  or  rather  an  unlevelled  angle  of 
the  hill,  and  reached  by  a  long  rickety  flight  of  steps, 
was  an  old  ugly  wooden  house.  It  was  unpainted  ;  the 
shutters  were  shaking  on  their  rusty  hinges  ;  the  chim 
neys  had  been  blown  off  long  since  ;  but  it  had  cost  much 
gold  in  its  time.  It  had  been  the  home  of  a  "  Forty- 
niner,"  and  he  was  dead  and  forgotten,  his  dust  as 
easily  accounted  for  as  his  winged  gold.  Doubtless 
every  room  had  its  patient  skeleton,  grinning  eternally 
at  the  yellow  lust  of  man. 

As  she  passed  Dupont  Street,  she  paused  again  and 
regarded  it  steadily.  Sheltered  in  the  steep  hillside,  it 
took  no  note  of  the  storm;  its  sidewalks  were  not 
empty,  and  its  windows  were  broken  bars  of  light. 


330  The  Californians 

MagdaMna  wondered  if  the  painted  creatures  talking 
volubly  behind  the  shutters  were  not  happier  and  more 
normal  than  she.  They  were  the  rejected  of  their 
native  boulevards,  beyond  a  doubt,  but  they  were  free 
in  their  way,  and  they  certainly  were  alive. 

I  am  nothing,  she  thought ;  neither  to  myself,  nor 
to  any  one  else.  I  wonder  will  the  wind  blow  me  in 
there  some  night?  What  if  it  does? 

But  when  a  man  started  toward  her  with  manifest 
intent  to  speak,  she  fled  down  the  hill. 

When  she  reached  Kearney  Street  she  turned  with 
out  hesitation  to  the  left,  and  walked  toward  those 
regions  which  are  associated  in  the  minds  of  every  San 
Franciscan  with  lawlessness  and  crime.  She  had  given 
a  swift  glance  to  the  right  before  turning ;  the  region 
of  respectable  shops  and  fashionable  promenade  was  as 
black  as  a  tunnel ;  the  eccentric  economy  of  the  city 
forbade  the  light  of  street  lamps  when  the  moon  was 
out,  whether  clouds  accompanied  her  or  not. 

Ahead  was  a  line  of  lights  twisting  and  leaping  in  the 
wind, — -  the  vagrant  gas-jets  before  the  row  of  cheap 
shops  on  the  east  side  of  the  Plaza.  Magdale"na 
hardly  glanced  at  the  medley  of  curious  wares  and 
faces  as  she  hurried  past ;  the  wind  was  roaring  about 
the  open  square,  interfering  with  sight  and  hearing  and 
headway.  And  beyond  —  her  blood  leaped  to  that 
mysterious  disreputable  region. 

She  left  the  Plaza  and  passing  under  the  shelter  of 
the  heights  upon  which  stood  her  home  slackened  her 
steps.  There  was  a  discordant  crash  of  music  in  the 


The  Californians  331 

crowded  streets.  Light  was  streaming  from  music- 
halls,  above  and  below  stairs,  and  from  restaurants  and 
saloons.  But  everybody  seemed  to  be  on  the  side 
walks.  It  was  a  strange  crowd,  and  Magdale"na  forgot 
herself  for  the  moment :  she  had  entered  a  new  world, 
and  her  tortured  soul  lagged  behind. 

The  riff-raff  of  the  world  was  moving  there,  and  when 
not  apathetic  they  took  their  pleasures  with  drawn 
brows  and  eyes  alert  for  a  fight;  but  the  only  types 
Magdalena  recognised  were  the  drunken  sailors  and  the 
occasional  blank-faced  Chinaman  who  had  strayed 
down  from  his  quarter  on  the  hill.  There  were  dark- 
faced  men  who  were  doubtless  French  and  Italian ; 
what  their  calling  was,  no  outsider  could  guess,  but 
that  it  was  evil  no  man  could  doubt ;  and  there 
were  many  whose  nationality  had  long  since  become 
as  inarticulate  as  such  soul  they  may  have  been  born 
with.  Many  looked  anaemic  and  consumptive,  but  the 
majority  were  highly  coloured  and  frankly  drunk.  And 
if  the  men  were  forbidding,  the  women  were  appalling. 
There  was  no  attempt  at  smartness  in  their  attire ; 
they  were  dowdy  and  frowsy,  and  even  the  young  faces 
were  old. 

The  din  of  voices,  the  medley  of  tongues  and  faces, 
the  crash  of  music,  the  poisoned  atmosphere,  con 
fused  Magdalena,  and  she  turned  precipitately  into  a 
restaurant.  It  was  almost  empty ;  she  sat  down  before 
a  dirty  table  and  ordered  a  cup  of  coffee.  The  only 
waiter  in  attendance  —  the  rest  were  probably  in  the 
street  —  was  old  and  bleared  of  eye,  but  he  stared  hard 
at  the  new  customer. 


33  2  The  Caiifornians 

"You'd  better  git  out  of  this,"  he  said,  as  Magda- 
l£na  finished  her  unpleasant  draught.  "You  ain't 
pretty,  but  you  're  a  lady,  and  they  don't  understand 
that  sort  here.  Have  you  got  much  money  with 
you?" 

"  About  a  dollar,  and  I  certainly  do  not  give  the  im 
pression  of  wealth.  Most  nursery  maids  are  better 
dressed." 

"  You  'd  better  git  out,  all  the  same." 

But  the  strong  coffee  had  gone  to  Magdale"na's  head, 
and  she  cared  little  what  became  of  her.  Nevertheless, 
a  moment  later  she  was  shrieking  and  struggling  in  the 
arms  of  a  big  golden-bearded  Russian.  She  barely 
grasped  the  sense  of  what  followed.  There  was  a  vol 
ley  of  screams  and  laughter ;  the  man  was  cursing  and 
gripping  her  with  the  arms  of  a  grizzly.  Then  there 
was  a  flash  of  knives,  and  she  was  stumbling  headlong 
through  the  crowd,  hooted  at  and  buffeted.  But  no  one 
attempted  to  stop  her,  for  a  fight  with  bowie-knives 
was  more  interesting  than  a  sallow-faced  girl  who  had 
happened  upon  foreign  territory.  She  ran  up  a  dark 
side-street,  and  then,  as  her  breath  gave  out  and  forced 
her  to  moderate  her  pace,  she  glanced  repeatedly  over 
her  shoulder.  No  one  was  in  pursuit,  but  it  was  some 
moments  before  she  realised  that  it  was  not  relief  she 
experienced,  but  something  akin  to  disappointment. 
She  was  in  the  ugliest  mood  of  which  her  nature  was 
capable,  and  that  was  saying  much.  With  one  excep 
tion,  better  forgotten,  this  blond  ruffian  who  had  in 
sulted  her  was  the  only  man  who  had  ever  desired  her  \ 


The  Califormans  333 

doubtless,  she  reflected  bitterly,  even  Trennahan  might 
be  excepted.  And  when  an  unprepossessing  woman 
of  starved  affections  and  implacably  controlled  passions 
sees  desire  in  the  eyes  of  a  man  for  the  first  time,  her 
vanity  of  sex  responds,  if  her  passions  do  not. 

She  half  turned  back  and  stood  looking  down  the 
hill  to  the  brilliant  noisy  street. 

Why  should  I  not  go  back  and  live  with  him,  and 
disappear  from  a  world  which  takes  no  interest  in 
me,  and  in  which  I  am  no  earthly  use  ?  she  thought. 
And  no  life  could  be  worse  than  mine,  nor  more 
immoral,  for  that  matter.  I  have  never  fulfilled  a  single 
one  of  the  conditions  for  which  woman  was  born,  and 
I  'd  be  more  normal  as  that  man's  mistress,  and  less  un 
happy  even  if  he  beat  me,  which  he  probably  would, 
than  living  the  life  of  a  blind  mole  underground. 

Then  she  wondered  who  her  deliverer  was,  and 
wondered  if  he  too  had  wanted  her.  Some  portion 
of  the  blackness  in  her  soul  receded  suddenly,  and  she 
smiled  and  trembled  slightly.  Involuntarily  her  back 
straightened,  and  she  lifted  her  head.  But  with  the 
sudden  rush  of  sexual  pride  the  magnetism  of  its 
creators  receded,  and  she  turned  her  back  on  the  flare 
below  and  continued  to  mount  the  hill.  In  a  moment 
she  turned  into  a  badly  lighted  alley  thinly  peopled. 
Here  there  was  but  a  tinkle  of  music,  and  it  came 
from  the  guitar.  Fat  old  women  with  black  shawls 
pinned  about  their  heads  sat  on  the  doorsteps  of 
ramshackle  houses  talking  to  men  whose  flannel  shirts 
revealed  hairy  chests.  The  women  looked  stupid,  the 


334  The  Califormans 

men  weather-beaten,  but  the  prevailing  expression  was 
good-natured.  In  the  middle  of  the  street  was  a 
tamale  stand  surrounded  by  patrons.  The  aroma  of 
highly  seasoned  cooking  came  from  a  restaurant  at  the 
foot  of  a  rickety  flight  of  steps.  Every  dilapidated 
window  had  its  flower-box. 

This,  then,  was  Spanish  town.  Magdale"na  had 
dreamed  of  it  often,  picturing  it  a  blaze  of  colour, 
a  moving  picture-book,  crowded  with  beautiful  girls 
and  handsome  gaily  attired  men.  There  was  not  a 
young  person  to  be  seen.  Nothing  could  be  less 
picturesque,  more  sordid. 

An  old  crone  with  a  face  like  a  withered  apple 
followed  her,  whining  for  a  nickel.  The  others  stared 
at  her  with  the  stolid  dignity  of  their  race.  She  gave 
the  woman  the  nickel  and  interrupted  the  invocation. 

"  Are  there  no  girls  here  ?  " 

"  Girl  come  from  other  place  sometimes,  then  have 
the  baby  and  is  old  queeck.  Si  the  senorita  stay  here, 
she  have  the  baby  and  grow  old  too." 

Magdale"na  hastened  on.  She  neither  knew  nor 
cared  where  she  went,  but  after  a  time  struck  down 
the  slope  again,  judging  that  she  was  beyond  the 
centre  of  social  activity.  Once,  at  the  corner  of 
two  sharply  converging  streets,  she  passed  a  house 
whose  lighted  windows  were  open,  for  the  wind  had 
gone  and  the  night  was  hot.  But  she  only  stood  for  a 
moment.  Fat  Mexican  women  half  dressed  were 
lolling  about,  and  the  front  door  was  open  to  many 
men.  The  women  were  not  as  evil  appearing  as  the 


The  Californians  335 

French  dregs  of  Dupont  Street,  possibly  because  they 
wore  flowers  in  their  hair  and  looked  more  frankly 
sensual  and  less  commercial.  Again  Magdal£na  felt 
an  almost  irresistible  attraction,  but  hastened  on. 
Once,  in  a  dark  street,  she  was  flung  against  a  wall 
and  her  pockets  turned  inside  out,  but  she  made 
no  protest  and  was  allowed  to  go  without  further 
indignity.  It  was  a  woman  who  had  robbed  her,  and 
Magdal£na,  having  come  off  with  the  mere  loss  of 
seventy  cents,  indulged  in  a  pleasurable  thrill  of 
adventure. 

After  a  time  she  found  herself  climbing  a  steep  hill 
and  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  reach  the  top,  and  that 
the  climb  should  be  a  long  one.  Here  and  there 
she  passed  a  tumble-down  house,  but  the  rest  of  the 
hill  under  the  brilliant  moon  showed  bare  and  brown. 
From  the  other  side  came  the  sound  of  lapping  waves, 
and  she  knew  herself  to  be  on  Telegraph  Hill. 

She  reached  the  top  and  sat  down  on  the  ground. 
The  clouds  had  flown  with  the  wind,  and  the  moon 
revealed  the  quiet  bay  and  the  black  masses  of  cliff 
and  hill  and  mountain  beyond.  An  occasional  gust 
made  a  loud  clatter  in  the  rigging  of  the  many  crafts 
below,  or  an  angry  shout  arose  from  the  water-front ; 
but  otherwise  the  night  from  the  summit  of  Telegraph 
Hill  was  peaceful  and  most  beautiful. 

Magdalena,  who  loved  Nature  and  had  yielded  to 
its  influence  many  times  in  her  life,  made  a  deliber 
ate  attempt  to  absorb  the  peace  and  beauty  of  the 
night  into  her  own  scarred  and  troubled  soul.  But 


33  6  The  Californians 

she  gave  up  the  attempt  in  a  few  moments.  The 
fierceness  of  her  mood  had  passed,  and  some  of  its 
blackness,  but  she  was  still  bitter  and  hopeless.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  face  the  problem  of  her  life, 
and  thinking  was  easier  on  these  altitudes,  where  the 
air  was  fresh  and  salt,  and  the  stars  seemed  close, 
than  in  the  ill-ventilated  prison  which  she  called  her 
home.  She  determined  to  remain  until  morning  and  to 
restore  her  brain  to  its  normal  condition,  if  possible. 

She  looked  back  upon  the  mental  and  moral  inertia 
into  which  she  had  sunken  during  the  past  month, 
and  its  sequence  of  morbid  and  criminal  instinct,  with 
terror  and  horror.  Before  an  hour  had  passed,  she 
had  herself  in  hand  once  more,  for  she  had  deliber 
ately  forced  herself  to  face  her  own  soul,  and  she 
believed  that  she  could  put  her  character  together 
again  and  accept  the  future  without  further  luxation  or 
debility  of  will.  But  she  made  no  attempt  to  close  her 
eyes  to  the  ugly  fact  that  in  that  future  of  intermin 
able  years  there  were  only  two  small  stars  of  hope  ;  and 
it  required  an  effort  of  imagination  to  drag  them  above 
the  horizon,  —  her  father's  death  and  the  return  of 
Trennahan.  Her  father  belonged  to  a  long-lived  race, 
and  Trennahan  during  an  absence  of  three  years  and 
some  months  had  given  no  indication  that  he  remem 
bered  her  existence ;  moreover,  he  had  gone  into  exile 
for  love  of  another  woman.  But  without  the  faint 
white  twinkle  of  those  stars  the  future  would  be  not  a 
blank,  but  an  infernal  abyss,  which  Magdalena,  without 
the  society  of  her  kind,  without  talent,  without  occu- 


The  Californians  337 

pation,  without  religion,  refused  to  contemplate.  And 
she  had  all  a  woman's  capacity  for  fooling  herself  with 
the  will-o'-the-wisps  of  the  imagination. 

Her  eyes  had  been  clear  and  her  logic  relentless  so 
long  as  the  man  had  been  within  sight  and  touch,  but 
his  absence,  combined  with  his  abrupt  and  final  evic 
tion  from  the  toils  of  the  other  woman,  had  lifted  him 
from  practical  life  into  the  realms  of  the  imagination ; 
in  other  words,  he  was  no  longer  so  much  a  man  as  an 
ideal,  —  a  soul  whom  her  own  soul  was  free  to  await  or 
pursue  in  that  inner  world  where  realities  are  bodiless 
and  forgotten. 

She  longed  for  the  old  comfortable  irresponsible 
sensuous  embrace  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  Its  light 
est  touch  was  hypnotic,  its  very  breath  a  balm.  Why, 
she  wondered  bitterly,  could  she  not  have  been  given 
less  brains,  or  more  ?  If  her  talents  had  been  genu 
ine,  she  would  have  had  that  magnificent  independence 
of  religion  and  worldly  conditions  which  only  art — • 
and  love  —  can  create  in  the  human  mind.  And  if 
her  logic  had  been  a  trifle  less  relentless,  she  would 
have  had  hours  of  ecstatic  forgetfulness  these  last  long 
years.  Of  course  there  was  always  the  Almighty 
Power  to  whom  one  could  pray,  and  who  certainly 
could  grant  prayer  if  He  chose.  But  it  seemed  to 
her  an  impertinence  for  ordinary  insignificant  beings  to 
importune  this  remote  and  absolute  God,  so  forbidding 
in  His  monotonous  mystery.  She  had  all  the  arrogance 
of  intellect  despite  her  remorseless  limitations.  Had 
she  been  granted  the  gift  of  creation,  —  in  other  words, 


338  The  Californians 

a  spark  from  the  great  creative  force  commanding  the 
Universe,  —  she  felt  that  she  should  have  no  hesitation 
in  begging  for  further  favours ;  a  certain  sense  of 
kinship,  of  being  in  higher  favour  than  the  great  con 
gested  mass,  would  have  given  her  assurance  and  faith. 
She  sighed  for  a  new  religion,  for  that  prophet  who 
must  one  day  arise  and  rid  the  world  of  the  abomina 
tion  of  dogma  and  sect,  giving  to  the  groping  millions 
a  simple  belief,  in  which  the  fussiness,  sentimental 
ity,  and  cruelty,  of  present  religions  would  have  no 
place. 

She  sat  there  until  the  dawn  came,  grey  and  ap 
palling  at  first,  then  touching  the  bay  and  the  dark 
heights  with  delicate  colour,  as  the  sun  struggled  out 
of  the  embrace  of  the  ocean.  She  was  obliged  to 
walk  home,  as  she  had  no  money,  and  the  long  toil 
some  tramp  in  the  wake  of  the  eventful  night  gave 
her  appetite  and  many  hours  of  rest.  When  she 
awoke  she  felt  that,  whatever  came,  the  most  formid 
able  crisis  of  her  life  had  been  safely  passed. 


XXXI 

IN  the  autumn  she  found  an  occupation  which  gave 
her  a  temporary  place  in  the  scheme  of  things.  Mrs. 
Yorba  fell  ill.  The  sudden  and  complete  change  from 
a  personage  to  a  nobody,  the  long  confinement,  —  she 
rarely  put  her  foot  outside  the  house  lest  her  shabby 
clothes  be  remarked  upon,  —  and  a  four  years'  course 


The  Californians  339 

of  sensational  novels  induced  a  nervous  distemper. 
Magdalena,  hearing  the  sound  of  pacing  footsteps  in 
the  hall  one  night,  arose  and  opened  her  door.  Mrs. 
Yorba,  arrayed  in  a  red  flannel  nightgown  and  a 
frilled  nightcap,  was  walking  rapidly  up  and  down, 
talking  to  herself.  Magdalena  persuaded  her  to  go 
to  bed,  and  the  next  morning  sent  for  the  doctor. 
He  prescribed  an  immediate  change  of  scene,  —  travel, 
if  possible ;  if  not,  the  country.  Magdalena  under 
took  to  carry  the  message  to  her  father. 

Knowing  that  a  knock  would  evoke  no  response, 
she  opened  the  door  of  the  study  and  went  in.  Don 
Roberto,  dirty,  unshaven,  looked  like  a  wild  man  in 
a  mountain  cave ;  but  his  eyes  were  steady  enough. 
His  table  and  the  floor  about  his  chair  were  piled 
high  with  ledgers.  On  everything  else  the  dust  was 
inches  thick,  and  the  spiders  had  spun  a  shimmering 
web  across  one  side  of  the  room.  It  hung  from  the 
gas-rod  like  a  piece  of  fairy  tapestry,  woven  with  red 
and  gold  here  and  there,  where  the  sun's  rays,  scatter 
ing  through  the  slats  of  the  inside  blinds,  caressed  it. 
On  the  mantel-piece,  supported  on  its  broken  staff, 
was  the  big  American  flag  which  had  floated  above 
the  house  of  Don  Roberto  Yorba  for  thirty  years. 
It  had  been  carefully  washed,  and  although  broken 
bits  of  spiders'  weavings  hung  to  its  edges,  there 
were  none  on  its  surface. 

Magdalena  felt  no  desire  to  kiss  her  parent,  although 
it  was  the  first  time  for  several  years  that  she  had  stood 
in  his  presence.  She  disliked  and  despised  him,  and 


34°  The  Californians 

thought  no  less  of  herself  for  her  repudiation.  If  she, 
a  young,  inexperienced,  and  lonely  woman,  could  fight 
and  conquer  morbid  fancies,  why  not  he,  who  had 
been  counted  one  of  the  keenest  financial  brains  of 
the  country?  She  felt  thoroughly  ashamed  of  her 
progenitor  as  she  stood  looking  down  upon  the  little 
dirty  shrunken  shambling  figure. 

"Well?"  growled  Don  Roberto,  "what  you  want?  " 

"My  mother  is  very  ill.  This  life  is  killing  her. 
The  doctor  says  she  must  have  a  change." 

"  All  go  to  die  sometime.  What  difference  now  or 
bimeby?" 

"  Will  you  let  us  go  to  Santa  Barbara  to  visit 
aunt?" 

"  Si  she  send  you  the  moneys,  I  no  care  what  you 
do  with  it.  I  no  give  you  one  cents." 

"  Very  well ;  I  shall  ask  my  aunt." 

But  Mrs.  Yorba  declared  that  she  would  not  go  to 
Santa  Barbara :  she  detested  her  sister-in-law,  and 
would  accept  no  favours  from  her,  nor  be  forced 
into  her  society.  There  was  nothing  for  Magdale"na 
to  do  but  to  nurse  her,  and  a  most  exasperating  invalid 
she  proved.  Nevertheless,  Magdale"na,  although  a 
part  of  her  duties  was  to  read  her  mother's  favourite 
literature  aloud  by  the  hour,  was  almost  grateful  for 
the  change.  She  seldom  found  time  for  her  daily 
walk,  but  at  least  she  had  little  time  to  think. 

When  Mrs.  Montgomery,  Mrs.  Geary,  and  Mrs. 
Brannan  returned  to  town,  they  came  frequently  to  sit 
with  the  invalid,  and  cheered  her  somewhat  with  talk 


The  Californians  341 

of  the  coming  summer,  when  they  should  take  her 
down  to  their  own  houses  in  Menlo. 

"  And  I  shall  go,"  said  Mrs.  Yorba  to  her  daughter, 
"  if  I  have  n't  a  decent  rag  to  my  back.  They  think 
nothing  of  that ;  I  was  a  fool  not  to  go  before.  And 
I  'm  going  to  get  well  —  against  the  time  when  that  old 
fiend  dies.  There  !  I  never  thought  I  'd  say  that, 
for  I  was  brought  up  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  but  say 
ing  it  is  little  different  from  thinking  it,  after  all.  I  've 
been  thinking  it  for  two  solid  years.  California  's  not 
New  England,  anyhow.  When  I  do  get  the  money, 
won't  I  scatter  it !  I  've  been  economical  all  my  life, 
for  I  had  it  in  my  blood,  and  it  was  my  duty,  as  your 
father  wished  it ;  as  long  as  he  did  his  duty  by  me,  I 
was  more  than  willing  to  do  mine  by  him  :  he  can't 
deny  it.  But  we  all  know  what  reaction  means,  and  it 
has  set  in  in  me.  When  I  am  my  own  mistress,  I  '11 
give  three  balls  and  two  dinners  a  week.  I  '11  have  the 
finest  carriages  and  horses  ever  seen  in  California.  I  '11 
have  four  trousseaux  a  year  from  Paris,  and  I  '11  go 
to  New  York  myself  and  buy  the  most  magnificent 
diamonds  Tiffany  's  got.  I  '11  refurnish  this  house  and 
Fair  Oaks.  The  walls  shall  be  frescoed,  and  every 
stick  in  them  will  come  from  New  York — " 

She  paused  abruptly,  springing  to  her  elbow.  The 
door  was  ajar.  Through  the  aperture  came  a  long 
low  chuckle.  Magdal^na  jumped  to  her  feet,  flung  the 
door  to,  and  locked  it. 

"Do  you  think  he's  gone  mad  at  last?"  gasped 
Mrs.  Yorba. 


The  Californians 

"  It  sounded  like  it." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  leave  me  for  a  minute. 
You  must  sleep  here  at  night.  There  's  a  cot  some 
where,  —  in  the  attic,  I  think,  if  the  rats  have  n't  eaten 
it.  What  a  life  to  live  !  "  She  fell  to  weeping,  as  she 
frequently  did  in  these  days.  Suddenly  her  face 
brightened.  "  If  he  should  make  a  will  disinheriting 
us,  we  could  easily  enough  prove  him  insane  after  the 
way  he  's  been  acting  these  four  years.  Thank  Heaven, 
this  is  California  !  General  William  could  break  any 
will  that  ever  was  made." 

Mrs.  Yorba  took  an  opiate  and  fell  asleep.  Mag- 
dalena  went  out,  locking  the  door  behind  her.  She 
determined  to  ascertain  at  once  if  her  father  was  in 
sane.  If  he  was,  he  should  be  confined  in  two  of  the 
upper  rooms  with  a  keeper.  The  world  should  know 
nothing  of  his  misfortune ;  but  it  would  be  absurd  for 
herself  and  her  mother  to  live  in  a  constant  state  of 
physical  terror. 

As  she  descended  the  stair,  the  door  of  her  father's 
study  opened  abruptly  and  a  man  shot  out  as  if 
violently  propelled  from  behind.  The  door  was 
slammed  to  immediately. 

Magdal£na  ran  downstairs  and  toward  the  stranger. 
He  was  a  tall  man  greatly  bowed,  and  as  she  approached 
him  she  saw  that  he  was  old  and  wore  a  long  white 
beard.  His  head  was  large  and  suggested  nobility  and 
intellect ;  but  the  eyes  were  bleared,  the  flesh  of  the 
face  loose  and  discoloured,  and  he  was  shabby  and 
dirty.  He  looked  like  a  fallen  king. 


The  Californians  343 

"Was  —  was —  my  father  rude?"  asked  Magda- 
le'na.  "  He  is  not  very  well.  Perhaps  I  can  do  some 
thing."  The  man  appealed  to  her  strangely,  and  she 
had  a  dollar  in  her  purse. 

"  We  were  great  friends  in  our  boyhood  and  youth," 
replied  the  stranger.  He  spoke  with  an  accent,  but  his 
English  was  unbroken.  "  And  he  has  been  my  guest 
many  times.  There  was  a  time  when  he  thought  it  an 
honour  to  know  me.  When  the  Americans  came,  every 
thing  changed.  My  career  closed,  for  I  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  them.  I  had  held  the  highest 
ofifices  under  the  Mexican  government.  I  could  not 
stoop  to  hold  office  under  the  usurpers  —  many  of 
whom  I  would  not  have  employed  as  servants.  Then 
they  took  my  lands,  —  everything.  But  I  am  detain 
ing  you,  senorita." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  indeed  !  How  could  they  take  your 
lands?  Who  are  you?  Tell  me  everything." 

"  They  '  squatted,'  many  of  them,  almost  up  to  my 
door.  The  only  law  we  could  appeal  to  was  American 
law,  and  California  was  a  hell  of  sharpers  at  that  time. 
It  is  bad  enough  now,  but  it  was  worse  then.  And 
then  came  the  great  drought  of  '64,  in  which  we  lost 
all  our  cattle.  We  never  recovered  from  that,  for  we 
mortgaged  our  lands  to  the  Americans  to  get  money  to 
live  on  with,  —  everything  was  three  prices  then  ;  and 
when  the  time  came  they  foreclosed,  for  we  never  had 
the  money  to  pay.  And  we  were  great  gamblers, 
senorita,  and  so  were  the  Americans — and  far  better 
ones  than  we  were.  We  were  only  made  for  pleasure 


344  The  Califbrnians 

and  plenty,  to  live  the  life  of  grandees  who  had  little 
use  for  money,  and  scorned  it.  When  the  time  came 
for  us  to  pit  ourselves  against  sordid  people,  we  crum 
bled  like  old  bones.  Your  father  has  been  very  fortu 
nate  :  he  had  a  clever  man  to  teach  him  to  circumvent 
other  clever  men.  Years  ago,  when  I  was  prouder 
than  I  am  now,  I  put  my  pride  in  my  pocket  and 
wrote,  asking  him  for  help.  I  wanted  a  small  sum  to 
pay  off  the  mortgage  on  a  ranchita,  upon  which  I 
might  have  ended  my  days  in  peace,  for  it  was  very 
productive.  He  never  answered.  To-day  I  came  to 
ask  him  for  money  to  buy  bread.  He  roared  at  me 
like  a  bull,  and  vowed  he  'd  blow  my  brains  out  if  I 
ever  entered  his  house  again.  He  looks  like  —  "  He 
paused  abruptly.  There  was  much  of  the  old-time 
courtliness  in  his  manner. 

"I  —  I  —  am  so  sorry.  And  I  have  little  money  to 
spend.  If  you  will  leave  me  your  name  and  address,  I 
will  send  you  something  on  the  first  of  each  month ; 
and  if —  if  ever  I  have  more  I  will  take  care  of  you  — 
of  all  of  you.  I  suppose  there  are  many  others." 

"  There  are  indeed,  senorita." 

"Some  day  I  will  ask  you  for  all  of  their  names. 
And  yours?" 

He  gave  it.  It  was  a  name  famous  in  the  brief 
history  of  old  California,  —  a  name  which  had  stood 
for  splendid  hospitality,  for  state  and  magnificence,  for 
power  and  glory.  It  was  the  name  of  one  of  her  be 
loved  heroes.  She  had  written  his  youthful  romance  ; 
she  had  described  the  picturesque  fervour  of  his  woo- 


The  Californians  345 

ing,  the  pomp  of  his  wedding ;  of  all  those  heroes  he 
had  been  the  best  beloved,  the  most  splendid.  And 
she  met  him,  —  a  broken-down  old  drunkard,  in  the 
dusty  gloom  of  an  old  maniac's  wooden  "  palace,"  in 
the  fashionable  quarter  of  a  city  which  had  never  heard 
his  name. 

"O  God!"  she  said.  "O  God!"  and  she  was 
glad  that  she  had  burned  her  manuscripts.  She  took 
the  dollar  from  her  pocket  and  gave  it  to  him. 

He  accepted  it  eagerly.  "God  bless  you,  senorita  !  " 
he  said.  "And  you  can  always  hear  of  me  at  the 
Yosemite  Saloon,  Castroville." 

He  passed  out,  neglecting  to  shut  the  door  behind 
him,  but  Magdatena  did  not  notice  the  unaccustomed 
rift  of  light.  She  sank  into  a  chair  against  the  wall 
and  wept  heavily.  They  were  the  last  tears  she  shed 
over  her  fallen  idols.  When  the  wave  had  broken,  she 
reflected  that  she  was  glad  to  know  of  the  distress  of  her 
people  ;  it  should  be  her  lifework  to  help  them.  When 
she  came  to  her  own  she  would  buy  them  each  a  little 
ranch  and  see  that  they  passed  the  rest  of  their  lives 
in  comfort. 

She  leaned  forward  and  listened  intently.  Loud 
mutterings  proceeded  from  her  father's  room.  She 
wondered  if  there  was  a  policeman  in  the  street.  She 
and  her  mother  were  very  unprotected.  The  only 
man  in  the  house  besides  her  father  was  the  Chinaman, 
and  Chinamen  are  as  indifferent  to  the  lives  of  others 
as  to  their  own.  Don  Roberto  had  ordered  the  tele 
phone  and  messenger  call  removed  years  ago.  The 


346  The  Californians 

sounds  rose  to  a  higher  register.  Magdalena,  straining 
her  ears,  heard,  delivered  in  rapid  defiant  tones,  the 
familiar  national  cry,  "  Hip-hip-hooray  !  " 

She  went  over  softly,  and  put  her  ear  to  the  thick 
door.  The  tones  of  the  old  man's  voice  were  broken, 
as  if  by  muscular  exertion,  and  accompanied  by  a  curi 
ous  bumping.  Magdalena  understood  in  a  moment. 
He  was  striding  up  and  down  the  room,  waving  the 
American  flag,  and  shouting,  "  Hip-hip-hooray  !  Hip- 
\ivp-hooray!  hooray!  hooray/  hooray!" 

She  ran  down  the  hall  to  summon  Ah  Kee  and  send 
him  for  a  doctor,  but  before  she  reached  the  bell  she 
heard  the  front  door  close,  and  turned  swiftly.  A  man 
had  entered. 

She  went  forward  in  some  indignation.  So  deep 
was  the  gloom  of  the  hall  that  she  could  distinguish 
nothing  beyond  the  facts  that  the  intruder  was  tall  and 
slight,  and  that  he  wore  a  light  suit  of  clothes.  When 
she  had  approached  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  she  saw 
that  he  was  Trennahan. 

For  the  moment  she  thought  it  was  the  soul  of  the 
man,  so  ghostly  he  looked  in  that  dim  light,  in  that 
large  silence. 

His  first  remark  was  reassuring  :  "  I  rang  twice  ;  but 
as  no  one  came,  and  the  door  was  open,  I  walked  in, 
—  as  you  see." 

"  We  have  so  few  servants  now.  Won't  you  come 
and  sit  down?" 

He  followed  her  down  to  the  reception-room.  She 
jerked  aside  the  curtains,  careless  of  the  bad  house- 


The  Californians  347 

keeping  the  light  would  reveal.  It  streamed  in  upon 
him.  He  was  deeply  tanned  and  indescribably 
improved. 

They  sat  down  opposite  each  other.  Magdal^na, 
recalling  her  tears,  placed  her  chair  against  the  light. 
"When  did  you  get  back?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  ship  docked  an  hour  ago." 

"You  look  very  well.  Have  you  been  enjoying 
yourself?  " 

"  I  have  been  occupied,  and  useful  —  I  hope.  At 
least,  I  have  collected  some  data  and  made  some  ob 
servations  which  may  be  new  to  the  world  of  Science. 
I  found  the  old  love  very  absorbing.  And,  you  will 
hardly  credit  it,  I  have  lived  quite  an  impersonal  life." 

"  Have  you  come  back  to  California  again  because 
you  think  it  a  good  place  to  die  in?" 

"  I  came  back  to  California,  because  it  is  a  good 
place  to  write  my  book  in,  and  because  you  are  here." 

"Ah!" 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me.  I  am  not  so  conceited 
as  to  imagine  that  I  can  have  you  for  the  asking.  But 
—  listen  to  me  :  I  had  a  brief  but  very  genuine  mad 
ness.  When  I  recovered  I  knew  what  I  had  th —  lost. 
I  argued  —  even  during  my  convalescence  —  that  I 
had  been  wholly  right  in  believing  that  you  were  the 
one  woman  for  me  to  marry,  and,  that  fact  established, 
you  must  believe  it  no  less  than  I.  But  for  a  long 
time  I  was  ashamed  to  come  back,  or  to  write.  Later, 
I  went  where  it  was  impossible.  Moreover,  in  solitude 
a  man  comes  into  very  close  knowledge  of  himself. 


348  The  Californians 

After  a  few  months  of  it  I  knew  that  I  should  never 
be  contented  with  mere  existence  again.  I  determined 
to  take  advantage  of  what  might  be  the  last  chance 
granted  me  to  make  anything  of  my  life  ;  I  had  thrown 
away  a  good  many  chances.  I  also  argued  that  if  you 
loved  me,  you  would  wait  for  me ;  that  you  were  not 
the  sort  to  marry  for  any  reason  but  one.  At  least, 
perhaps  you  will  give  me  another  trial." 

"  I  shall  marry  you,  I  suppose ;  I  have  wanted  to 
so'  long,  and  I  never  had  any  pride  where  you  were 
concerned.  A  few  months  ago  I  should  have  flown 
into  your  arms;  and  I  had  felt  sure  that  you  would 
return.  But  lately  I  have  not  been  able  to  care  about 
anything.  I  am  not  the  least  bit  excited  that  you  are 
here.  It  merely  seems  quite  natural  and  rather 
pleasant." 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously.  "  You 
look  very  thin  and  worn,  and  the  house  —  it  was  like 
entering  the  receiving  vault  on  Lone  Mountain.  I 
thought  when  I  came  in  that  you  were  having  a  funeral, 
at  least." 

"  It  has  been  like  that  for  four  years.  Uncle  died, 
and  papa  was  afraid  to  trust  himself  in  the  world  for 
fear  he  would  relapse  into  his  natural  instincts.  So  he 
shut  himself  up,  makes  us  live  on  next  to  nothing,  and 
of  course  we  go  nowhere,  for  we  have  no  clothes. 
Mamma  has  been  ill  with  nervous  prostration  for 
months,  and  now  I  feel  sure  that  papa  has  gone  insane. 
I  have  only  spoken  to  him  once  in  four  years;  but 
I  have  been  certain  that  he  would  lose  his  mind 


The  Californians  349 

finally,  and  I  have  just  discovered  that  he  is  quite 
mad." 

"  Good  God  !  We  '11  be  married  to-morrow.  I 
never  imagined  your  father  would  hit  upon  any  new 
eccentricities.  You  poor  little  hermit  !  I  fancied  you 
going  to  parties  and  plodding  at  your  stories.  I  never 
dreamed  that  you  were  shut  up  in  a  dungeon.  I  shall 
see  that  you  are  happy  hereafter." 

"  I  feel  sad  and  worn  out.  I  don't  think  I  can  ever 
feel  much  of  anything  again." 

"Oh,  you'll  get  over  that,"  he  replied  cheerfully; 
he  was  as  practical  as  ever.  "  What  you  want  is  plenty 
of  sun  and  fresh  air  and  a  rest  from  your  family.  If 
your  father  is  insane,  he  '11  go  into  an  asylum ;  and  a 
rest  cure  is  the  place  for  your  mother.  That  will  dis 
pose  of  her  while  we  are  taking  our  honeymoon  in  the 
redwoods.  Do  you  think  you  could  stand  camping 
out?" 

"  I  could  stand  anything  so  long  as  it  was  the  country 
once  more,"  she  said,  with  her  first  flash  of  enthusiasm. 
"  But  there  is  something  I  should  tell  you.  Perhaps 
after  you  hear  it  you  won't  want  to  marry  me.  I  tried 
to  kill  Helena  once." 

"  You  did  what  ?  "  he  said,  staring  at  her. 

"  She  came  to  me  just  after  leaving  you,  on  the 
night  of  your  last  interview.  I  was  very  much  worked 
up  before  she  came,  had  been  for  a  long  while ;  and 
when  she  told  me  that  she  had  treated  you  badly  and 
had  thrown  you  over,  after  taking  you  away  from  me, 
I  suddenly  wanted  to  kill  her,  and  I  took  my  dagger 


350  The  Californians 

out  of  the  drawer  beside  me.  It  was  very  dark,  but 
she  had  an  instinct,  and  she  jumped  up  and  ran  away. 
I  never  knew  I  could  feel  so ;  but  every  bit  of  blood  in 
my  body  seemed  shrieking  in  my  head,  and  if  she  had 
not  gone  I  should  have  jumped  on  her  and  hacked  her 
to  bits.  I  must  go  up  to  my  mother  now.  You  can 
think  it  over  and  come  back  again." 

"  I  don't  need  to  think  it  over,"  he  said,  smiling. 
"  That  was  all  you  needed  to  make  you  quite  perfect. 
You  are  a  wonderful  example  of  misdirected  energies. 
Where  is  your  father?  I  will  go  and  look  after  him  at 
once." 

He  took  her  suddenly  in  his  arms  and  compelled  her 
to  kiss  him ;  and  then  Magdalena  knew  how  glad  she 
was  that  he  had  come. 

She  went  with  him  to  the  door  of  the  study. 

"He  is  quiet,"  she  whispered.  "Perhaps  he  is 
asleep." 

She  left  him  and  went  down  the  hall,  turning  to 
wave  her  hand  to  him.  Trennahan  knocked.  There 
was  no  answer.  He  opened  the  door  softly,  then 
gave  a  swift  glance  over  his  shoulder,  entered  hurriedly, 
and  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

Suspended  from  the  gas  pipe,  which  was  bent  and 
leaking,  was  Don  Roberto.  The  light  was  dim.  The 
purple  face  on  the  languidly  revolving  body  was  barely 
visible ;  but  as  it  turned  slowly  to  the  door,  it  occu 
pied  a  definite  place  among  the  shadows.  Trennahan 
flung  back  the  curtains  and  opened  the  window,  clos 
ing  the  lower  inside  blinds.  A  cloud  hurried  across  the 


The  Californians  351 

face  of  the  sun,  as  if  light  had  no  place  in  that  ghastly 
room.  About  the  limp  body  and  sprawling  hands  clung 
the  delicate  prismatic  tapestry  of  the  spiders.  It  was 
rent  in  twain,  and  it  quivered,  and  threatened  to  drop 
and  trail  upon  the  floor.  The  little  weavers  were  rac 
ing  about,  full  of  anger  and  consternation,  bent  on  re 
pair.  A  number  had  already  gathered  up  the  broken 
strands  and  were  fastening  them  across  the  body. 
Had  Don  Roberto  remained  undiscovered  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  he  might  have  been  wrought  into  the  tissue 
of  that  beautiful  delicate  web,  a  grotesque  intruder  over 
whom  the  spiders  would  doubtless  have  held  long  and 
puzzled  counsel. 

The  cloud  passed.  The  sun  caught  a  brilliant  line 
of  colour.  Trennahan  went  forward  hastily,  and  ex 
amined  the  long  knotted  strip  between  the  body  and 
the  ceiling. 

Don  Roberto  had  hanged  himself  with  the  American 
flag. 


FINIS 


Notably  interesting  books  by 

GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


The  Conqueror 


BEING  THE  TRUE  AND    ROMANTIC 
STORY  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 

By  the  author  of  "  The  Calif ornians"  "  The  Splendid  Idle  Forties"  etc. 

Cloth,  i2ino,  $1.50 

"  Realizing  that  Mrs.  Atherton  has  sown  political  dragon's  teeth, 
certain  to  bring  forth  clashing  opinions,  we  can  only  appreciate  the 
fascination  and  vigor  of  her  work.  Upon  the  whole,  it  is  incom 
parably  more  illuminating  than  any  mass  of  non-vitalized  facts  col 
lected  by  the  plodding  historian." 

—  New  York  Times  Saturday  Review. 

"  Among  the  notable  productions  of  the  year  must  be  reckoned  Mrs. 
Gertrude  Atherton's  brilliant  character  novel.  In  intellectual  grasp, 
virility,  and  compelling  interest  this  fearless  author  takes  front  rank." 

—  Providence  Telegram. 

"  Till  now  there  has  arisen  neither  man  nor  woman  to  do  what  has 
been  done  in  this  exciting  narrative  of  an  exciting  life.  .  .  .  Permeated 
with  the  passionate  brain  vitality  of  a  woman  who  can  write  as  well 
as  think."  —  Standard  Union,  Brooklyn. 

"  It  may  start  a  revolution  in  the  methods  of  our  historical  novelists. 
It  is  composite  yet  a  splendid  picture."  —  New  York  Herald. 

"  It  is  a  fascinating  picture  of  the  life  of  a  hundred  years  ago,  and 
should  be  read  by  every  one  of  taste  and  intelligence  .  .  .;  enthusias 
tic  and  imaginatively  romantic."  —  New  England  Magazine. 

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book  every  written  by  a  woman.  ...  A  delightful  romance  and  a 
work  which  is  unique  and  excellent."  —  San  Francisco  Bulletin. 


THE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

PUBLISHEBS,   64-66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YOBK 


GERTRUDE   ATHERTON'S 
Selection  of  a  Few  of 

Hamilton's  Letters 

Chosen  from  the  great  mass  of  his  published  state  papers  and  public  cor 
respondence  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  to  the  average  reader  for  the  first 
time  the  means  of  estimating  Hamilton's  personality  from  his  own  words. 

With  portraits.     $1.50  net  (ijr.  postage) 

"  Mrs.  Atherton's  success  in  her  main  object  is  surprising ;  no  reader  can  fail 
to  be  attracted  by  the  personality  of  the  man  here  revealed. 
"  Vivacity,  energy,  an  indomitable  will,  unbounded  confidence  in  himself  and 
his  abilities,  pride,  power,  passion,  extraordinarily  clear  foresight,  —  these,  to 
gether  with  many  engaging  qualities,  come  out  so  strongly  through  these  letters 
that  they  soon  make  the  man  real.  .  .  .  Among  the  most  interesting  portions 
of  the  book  are  the  introduction  and  the  notes  by  Mrs.  Atherton,  who  writes 
here,  as  elsewhere,  with  unfailing  virility,  force,  and  interest." 

—  The  Boston  Herald. 

"A  useful  and  very  interesting  book.  ...  In  a  way  Mrs.  Atherton  chal 
lenges  a  comparison  between  the  notable  portrait  of  the  great  financier  and 
the  statesman  which  she  drew  in  '  The  Conqueror '  and  the  self-revelation 
of  these  letters.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  as  a  novelist  she  took  unusual 
pains  in  fitting  herself  for  the  task  of  writing  about  the  Revolutionary  period. 
And  so  her  novel  stands  in  a  place  by  itself  among  recent  things  of  the  sort. 
.  .  .  This  task  has  been  done  with  discrimination  and  dramatic  skill.  It  is  a 
book  which  cannot  be  ignored  by  any  admirer  of  Hamilton." 

—  The  New  York  Sun. 

"  The  letters  about  Arnold  and  Andr6  are  particularly  vivid  and  moving. 
All  readers  of  Mrs.  Atherton's  '  The  Conqueror '  will  feel  peculiar  interest  in 
seeing  Hamilton's  own  account  of  the  hurricane  which  forms  so  prominent  a 
scene  in  the  novel.  .  .  .  We  commend  the  book  to  those  who  would  like  to 
have  a  first-hand  view  of  the  great  American  in  many  moods  and  relations." 

—  The  Outlook. 

"  It  is  safe  to  say  that  for  a  thousand  who  knew  the  name  of  Washington, 
one  knew  the  name  of  Hamilton.  If  many  more  know  it  to-day,  the  reason  is 
to  be  found  in  'The  Conqueror.'  'Lives'  of  Hamilton,  of  course,  have  been 
written  —  it  was  reserved  for  Mrs.  Atherton  to  make  him  really  alive  to  the 
present  generation."  —  RICHARD  LE  GALLIENNE  in  The  Boston  Transcript. 


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The  Splendid  Idle  Forties 

By  GERTRUDE   ATHERTON 

Stories  of  the  days  of  Spanish  rule  in 
California  "  before  the  Gringo  came." 

New  Edition,  Cloth,  $1.50 

"Altogether,  loving  or  even  living  must  have  been  an  exciting  matter  for 
young  people  in  this  splendid  idle  decade,  when,  if  there  was  political  peace 
(save  for  internal  wrangling)  there  was  domestic  passion  of  incandescent 
intensity." —  The  Churchman. 

"  They  are  strong  and  interesting  with  the  gay,  brilliant,  picturesque  interest 
of  that  romantic  period,  when  life  in  the  Southern  California  towns  was  more 
theatrical,  more  like  grand  opera  performances,  than  anything  our  busy  com 
monplace,  practical  civilization  nowadays  knows  anything  about." 

—  Ph  iladelph  ia  Telegraph . 

"  Critically  considered,  the  chief  value  of  the  stories  lies  in  the  accuracy  of 
their  historical  setting.  The  author  has  got  the  facts  and  their  proper  corre 
lation  ;  but  she  has  also  seized  hold  of  something  far  more  precious  than 
mere  historical  data.  She  has  made  captive  the  sentiments,  the  thoughts,  the 
feelings,  the  passions  and  prejudices  which  swayed  the  governing  caste  in  old 
California."  —  Chicago  Rvening  Post. 

"  They  are  curious,  bizarre  creations,  a  medley  of  weird  and  sinister  happen 
ings,  of  hot  love  and  jealousies,  of  dancing  and  merry-makings  ;  the  characters 
a  changing  throng  of  dark-eyed,  bejewelled  Spanish  women  and  splendid 
caballeros  in  gaudy  serape  and  jingling  spurs,  and  Mexicans,  and  Indians, 
and  dingy  brown-habited  Franciscan  padres,  with  a  sprinkling  of  the  conquer 
ing  coming  race,  the  fair-haired,  practical  Americans.  .  .  .  One  gets  here  a  very 
good  idea  of  the  Spanish  California,  of  that  life  which  seems  now  so  remote 
and  so  alien  that  one  can  scarcely  realize  that  it  was  a  part  of  our  America 
not  sixty  years  ago."  —  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

The  Californians 

New  Edition,  just  ready,  cloth,  $1.50 

Patience  Sparhawk  and  her  Times 

New  Edition  to  be  ready  in  the  Fall  of  1908 

Mrs.  Atherton  is  one  of  the  comparatively  few  writers  of  marked 
popularity  whose  earlier  books  remain  in  demand  year  after  year. 


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Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL'S  NOVELS 


Each,  cloth,  gilt  tops  and  titles,  $1.50 


The  Celebrity.    An  Episode 

"  No  such  piece  of  inimitable  comedy  in  a  literary  way  has  appeared  for 
years.  ...  It  is  the  purest,  keenest  fun." —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

Richard  Carvel  Illustrated 

"...  In  breadth  of  canvas,  massing  of  dramatic  effect,  depth  of  feeling,  and 
rare  wholesomeness  of  spirit,  it  has  seldom,  if  ever,  been  surpassed  by  an 
American  romance."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

The   Crossing  Illustrated 

"  The  Crossing  is  a  thoroughly  interesting  book,  packed  with  exciting 
adventure  and  sentimental  incident,  yet  faithful  to  historical  fact  both  in 
detail  and  in  spirit."  —  The  Dial. 

The   Crisis  Illustrated 

"  It  is  a  charming  love  story,  and  never  loses  its  interest. .  .  .  The  intense 
political  bitterness,  the  intense  patriotism  of  both  parties,  are  shown  under- 
standingly."  —  Evening  Telegraph,  Philadelphia. 

Coniston  Illustrated 

"  Coniston  has  a  lighter,  gayer  spirit,  and  a  deeper,  tenderer  touch  than 
Mr.  Churchill  has  ever  achieved  before.  ...  It  is  one  of  the  truest  and  finest 
transcripts  of  modern  American  life  thus  far  achieved  in  our  fiction."  — 
Chicago  Record-Herald. 


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Mr.  F.  MARION  CRAWFORD'S 
Latest  Novel 

Arethusa 

One  of  the  most  spirited  tales  this  born  story-teller  of  wide  knowledge 
and  versatility  has  ever  constructed.  Its  scenes  are  laid  in  Constantinople 
when  the  constant  plotting  of  the  fourteenth  century  made  adventures  an 
everyday  possibility. 

Its  hero  is  an  exiled  Venetian  noble,  inclining  toward  the  Revolutionary 
side  in  Byzantine  politics ;  and  toward  a  girl  whom  he  has  had  a  com 
mission  to  purchase  as  a  slave,  in  affairs  of  love. 

Its  characters  include  among  others  a  Persian  slave-dealer,  a  Turkish 
astrologer,  the  two  Emperors,  Andronicus  and  his  imprisoned  son, 
Johannes,  and  Tocktamish,  a  Tartar  mercenary, —  a  cosmopolitan  as 
sembly  in  which  the  author  of  Paul  Patoff,  The  Witch  of  Prague,  and  of 
Marietta  is  well  at  home. 

Dr.  Frederick  Taber  Cooper,  in  The  Bookman,  says  of  this  author :  "  In 
theory  Mr.  Crawford  is  a  romanticist ;  in  practice  he  is  in  turn  realist, 
psychologue,  mystic,  whatever  for  the  moment  suits  his  needs  or  appeals 
to  his  instinct  of  born  story-teller."  He  calls  him,  in  fact,  as  others  have 
done,  "  the  prince  of  story-tellers." 


"Mr.  Crawford  is  a  marvellous  story-teller;  ...  no  reader  of  novels  can 
afford  to  neglect  so  rarely  interesting,  artistic,  and  clear-cut  a  tale."  —  Public 
Ledger,  Philadelphia. 


"Arethusa  is  brilliant  with  all  the  skill  and  artistic  craft  of  which  Mr. 
Crawford  is  master ;  ...  it  is  a  very,  very  good  story."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 


"  Mr.  Crawford  is  one  of  the  best  story-writers  of  our  time,  and  his 
Arethusa  is  fresh  proof  that  ...  he  is  perfect  master  of  the  pure  romance 
with  a  dramatic  plot."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


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MISS  ZONA  GALE'S 
The  Loves  of  Pelleas  and  Etarre 

"To  all  who  know  the  hidden  sources  of  human  joy  and  have 
neither  grown  old  in  cynicism  nor  gray  in  utilitarianism,  Miss  Gale's 
charming  love  stories,  full  of  fresh  feeling  and  grace  of  style,  will  be 
a  draught  from  the  fountain  of  youth."  —  Outlook. 
"Tender  and  dreamlike  as  is  the  atmosphere  that  pervades  this  story,  a 
divine  and  radiant  possibility  along  the  line  of  utmost  truth  underlies 
it  and  opens  heaven  to  a  weary  multitude.  .  .  .  The  contented  spirit, 
the  assurance  of  all  good,  the  poetic  response  to  all  beauty,  declare 
themselves  in  all  the  lines  and  incidents  of  the  story,  as  the  atmosphere 
of  heaven  let  down  to  earth  that  love  can  thrive  in  though  a  century 
of  time  has  passed  over  its  objects."  —  St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 
"The  achievement  is  unusual  for  delicacy,  subtlety,  and  the  .  .  . 
felicitous  tenderness  which  broods  over  the  book  like  a  golden 
autumnal  haze  which  dims  the  outlines  of  common  things  and  beau 
tifies  them.  .  .  .  And  yet  the  essence  of  life  and  truth  are  pre 
served.  The  story  is,  indeed,  unique  in  this,  that  it  is  an  idyl  for 
the  aged  —  a  romance  of  seventy.  ...  It  has  a  few  really  poignant 
beauties,  many  scenes  of  beautiful  homeliness,  and  a  theme — to  use 
the  word  in  its  musical  sense  —  as  exquisitely  uplifted  as  Wagner's 
'Dreams.'" — Chicago  Tribune. 

"The  chief  charm  of  the  book  is  its  infectious  tenderness.  It  is 
an  ideal  book  for  a  husband  and  wife  to  read  aloud  together.  .  .  . 
Its  spirit  is  even  finer  than  its  art,  and  its  picture  of  steadfast 
love  in  old  age  is  the  best  kind  of  idealism." —  Chicago  Record- 
Herald. 

"  It  contains  the  sort  of  message  that  seems  to  set  the  world  right 
for  even  the  most  depressed,  and  can  be  depended  upon  to  sweeten 
every  moment  spent  over  it."  —  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 
"The  delicate  and  delightful  chronicles  of  Pelleas  and  Etarre  .  .  . 
are  very  human,  very  appealing,  and  very  well  written  ...  a 
remarkable  blend  of  the  ideal,  the  real,  and  the  romantic.  A  vivid 
humanity  animates  her  characters  and  makes  them  creatures  of 
flesh  and  blood ;  sheer  spontaneity  of  humor  and  pathos  brings  the 
joy  of  laughter  and  the  tenderness  of  tears  to  the  reader's  eyes 
as  some  quaint  conceit  or  touching  sentiment  comes  to  the  fore. 
The  style  is  fascinating,  so  vivid,  so  clear,  so  colorful.  The  char 
acterization  is  graced  by  definiteness  and  subtlety  of  live  acute 
psychology,  and  wonderful  penetration  into  life  as  it  is  lived.  .  .  . 
'The  Loves  of  Pelleas  and  Etarre'  is  not  only  the  best  thing  that 
Miss  Gale  has  done  .  .  .  but  is  distinctly  and  notably  one  of  the 
choicest  literary  achievements  of  recent  years.", —  Evening  Telegraph, 
Philadelphia. 

Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.50 


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Mr.  JACK  LONDON'S  NOVELS,  etc. 


Each,  in  decorated  cloth  binding,  $1-50 


The   Call   of  the   Wild  Illustrated  in  colors 

"  A  big  story  in  sober  English,  and  with  thorough  art  in  the  construction ; 
a  wonderfully  perfect  bit  of  work  ;  a  book  that  will  be  heard  of  long.  The 
dog's  adventures  are  as  exciting  as  any  man's  exploits  could  be,  and  Mr. 
London's  workmanship  is  wholly  satisfying."  —  The  New  York  Sun. 

The   Sea- Wolf  Illustrated  in  colors 

"  Jack  London's  The  Sea-Wolf  is  marvellously  truthful.  .  .  .  Reading 
it  through  at  a  sitting,  we  have  found  it  poignantly  interesting  ;  .  .  .  a 
superb  piece  of  craftsmanship."  —  The  New  York  Tribune, 

White   Fang  Illustrated  in  colors 

"  A  thrilling  story  of  adventure  .  .  .  stirring  indeed  .  .  .  and  it  touches  a 
chord  of  tenderness  that  is  all  too  rare  in  Mr.  London's  work."  —  Record- 
Herald,  Chicago. 

Before   Adam  Illustrated  in  colors 

"  The  story  moves  with  a  wonderful  sequence  of  interesting  and  wholly 
credible  events.  The  marve'  of  it  all  is  not  in  the  story  itself,  but  in  the 
audacity  of  the  man  who  undertook  such  a  task  as  the  writing  of  it.  ... 
From  an  artistic  standpoint  the  book  is  an  undoubted  success.  And  it  is 
no  less  a  success  from  the  standpoint  of  the  reader  who  seeks  to  be  enter 
tained."  —  The  Plain  Dealer,  Cleveland. 

The  Iron  Heel 

The  fair  future  and  the  drama  of  its  attainment  by  social  revolution  are  the 
subject  of  an  intensely  interesting  novel. 

Shorter  Stories 

Children  of  the  Frost  The  Game 

Faith  of  Men  Moon  Face 

Tales  of  the  Fish  Patrol  Love  of  Life 


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f)nr)  ^      '""'"'///////i 


